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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363290">Red Light District</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_totel/pseuds/p_totel'>p_totel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Relationships, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eating Disorders, Emotional Manipulation, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Omorashi, Plushies, Puppy Play, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Rape/Non-con Elements, Watersports, Weight Issues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,512</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_totel/pseuds/p_totel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A batch of Thramsay (and related) drabble requests!</p><p>1. Gift - Ramsay gives Reek a plushie<br/>2. Camping - Ramsay and Reek take children camping (A/B/O)<br/>3. Food Court - Sansa tries to talk to Reek at a party<br/>4. Preparations - Theon tries to deal some drugs. Ramsay interjects.<br/>5. Lessons - Theon smokes some cigarettes. Inspired by Sylvanwhispers XOXO fanfic.<br/>6. Second date - sequel to Preparations<br/>7. Cattle - Reek gets tazed like a common cattle<br/>8. Kiss - Ramsay's knife is like a lover's kiss<br/>9. Pissed - Theon always kinda pissed on Jon.<br/>10. Dungeon - Ramsay takes Theon to a BDSM dungeon.<br/>11. Beer - Reek is a dog, but he would still like a taste.<br/>12. Skeleton - Ramsay makes Theon lose some weight.<br/>13. Underground - Ramsay and Theon hit a dingy, underground club.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ramsay Bolton/Reek, Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, Theon Greyjoy/Jon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>149</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ramsay gives Reek a gift. A plushie.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Damn Rams, this shit is too dark even for you.” Alyn squinted his eyes at half-eaten corpse of a boy hanging from the tree.“</p><p>What, are we supposed to call you Flower Alyn from now on?” Skinner grunted, completely unphased by sheer cruelty of the sight before them. A brother and a sister; no older than age of ten and thirteen. Two mauled bodies hung on the dark branches of Northern woods; warm bodies getting colder and colder.</p><p>The boy still had a twisted expression to his face, a mix of agony and disbelief. Alyn gave him a sour look. Children still had their bags on them; probably stolen from some inn keeper or whoever. Bread in the purses, a bit of wine, a few coins - all signs they were running away. Running away from something horrible.</p><p>Winter, perhaps.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve told you already. It’s simply matter of practicality.” Ramsay whistled at his girls howling and circling around the grim corpses. “These fuckers would die sooner or later. They’d just freeze to death. We could as well feed the dogs, ain’t it right?” he patted his knee and a hound flew to her master, giving a happy bark. “I’m not going to waste pork on them.”</p><p>Alyn sighed in resignation and strapped his horse. “Whatever. Fuck, it’s getting cold.” he spoke, but the voice got lost in harsh wind that was starting to blow stronger and stronger, whipping young men’s faces.</p><p>“You guys wanna stop at the inn? I could use something to warm me up.” he added, squinting his eyes in pathetic defense of cold hurl.</p><p>“I know I could use something to warm me up.” Damon gave a wicked cackle and jumped on his mare. “Ramsay, lord, you comin’?”</p><p>Bastard’s attention was somewhere else as he stared below the corpses. Girls had taken their fill of meat and contents of children’s purses were too pathetic to even look at. Their job here was done.</p><p>But something fell down from the boy's hand. A little token of home; of his mother or father or whoever, perhaps. A little thing that landed on the thin snow.</p><p>“Yeah, let’s go.” Ramsay smirked, leaned down and picked it up.</p><p>***</p><p>“Ah! Ah, ah, fuck!” grunts echoed off the dirty dungeon cells of Dreadfort.</p><p>There wasn’t much Ramsay actually did. ‘Acting Lord of Dreadfort’ indeed. Roose was well aware that leaving a horse in his son’s place would’ve been just as, if not more, effective. Sure, Ramsay still took in lords, peasants and poachers, but he wasn’t crazy to do it in the evening if he didn’t <em> have </em> to. Or to give up his hunts. Or to give up eating, or to give up fucking.</p><p>“Fuck!” he came into Reek with a heavy groan and exhaled, pleased. He breathed like that for a couple seconds, regaining his composture. Fuck. That was s good spill.</p><p>The poor ratty thing bended over his work desk gave a sob and a whine and a little cry; as always, really.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you like it?” Ramsay buckled up his belt.</p><p>“Of course, m’lord.” Reek forced a weak cry from his throat. The second Ramsay's body moved away, the freakish thing scrambled to its legs and down.</p><p>It grabbed its knees and shivered, trying so hard to supress the sobs.</p><p> </p><p>Ramsay rolled his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re more delicate than a woman.” he groaned and threw the big bat aside.</p><p> </p><p>Unmade bed. That’s what got Reek into trouble that evening. That’s what prompted Ramsay to grab a thick stick, one of those like training swords and hit the poor thing’s ass a couple times. Well, fine, a bit more than a couple of times.</p><p>The flesh had already changed tones from its usual ghostly paleness to deep red and was starting to turn purple and dangerously blue. His bitch should be lucky to get away with only that. The truth was that Ramsay didn’t really thing through the consequences of possibly shattering Reek’s tailbone or whatever, so only the lucky case prevented a pretty serious tragedy from happening.</p><p> </p><p>“It was just a stick, Reek.”</p><p>“Yes, m’lord. Reek deserved it.” his servant sobbed, completely unconvincingly. A stick. More like a tree trunk.</p><p> </p><p>He watched Reek with disinterest as the frekish gaunt man tried to roll over, avoiding sitting onbhis buttocks as much as possible. First stick, then his Lord’s cock and well - there was only so much Reek could take.</p><p> </p><p>Ramsay stared at him fora few seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I did go a bit overboard. Lousy job you’ve done, but still…” he muttered outloud, his eyes fluttering to the ceiling.</p><p>Reek gasped with surprise, shying away even more. </p><p>Ramsay took a look at the bed and then at his pet. Yeah. Maybe he did overreact a bit. Well, impulsivity had always been a weakness of his. He shrugged it off with little care.</p><p> </p><p>Reek's heart, on the other end, froze as he stared at his Master mulling over something in his head.</p><p>Ramsay in deep thought was the worst one there was, and Ramsay that started ‘apologizing’ was somehow even worse than that one. It was always a game. A start of a game.</p><p> </p><p>“You deserve a treat, Reek.” Master suddenly snapped his tongue and averted his eyes to the poor dog. “Would you like that?”</p><p> </p><p>No. He absolutely wouldn’t. Each treat was a punishment in sheep’s skin.”Would you like to stretch your legs?” was one of the ‘treats’ and when Reek eagerly nodded, Ramsay tied him to a breaking wheel and indeed - stretched him out. There was also a lemoncake that gave him terrifying food poisoning and gave him burning cramps. There were thousands of gifts Ramsay had given him. Reek hated them all.</p><p> </p><p>“R-Reek is undeserving.” was the only reply he could give.</p><p> </p><p>Ramsay turned around to reach for something in his bag and Reek sobbed, covering his eyes. Was this night, this punishment, really never going to end? How long? How long did Master plan to keep this up?</p><p> </p><p>“Open your eyes, Reek.”</p><p>The thing hesitantly lowered its mauled hands, lips shivering in fear. Expecting a fire poker in Ramsay’s hands. Expecting a flaying hand.</p><p> </p><p>It was none of that.</p><p> </p><p>His Lord held a little stuffed toy. A squid. A ragged little thing in his hands. Reek’s eyes went wide.</p><p>Ramsay could see terror and curious childish hope mix in them. For a second, it seemed like he had forgotten of his pained bottom, the toy in Ramsay’s hands serving like a hypnotic pendulum.</p><p>He could see two questions mix in his pet’s dim head.</p><p> </p><p>One - is it for me?</p><p>Two - is it a trick?</p><p> </p><p>Yet Reek couldn’t help but lean in a bit, his mouth spread in a little ‘o’ shape; a bare gesture of awe.</p><p>Ramsay snickered and Reek immediately pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>“No, come on. It really is for you.” his Master crouched down and playfully pressed a finger against Reek’s nose. He pushed the toy into his hand.</p><p>Reek stared at it like at a burning coal as it fit into his mauled palm.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Ramsay gave the squid a headpat. “There. Even looks like you.”</p><p>Bastard’s comment was supposed to be mocking but Theon turned the patched little thing in his hands and thought: it really does. It really looks like me.</p><p> </p><p>His attention seemed to be completely lost at his Lord though as he, more courageously (figuring Ramsay won’t just yank it out of his hand), started gliding his index finger against the soft plush.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you like it, Reek? It’s a gift.” Ramsay cocked his head to the side, an excited grin spreading on his lips.</p><p>This time Reek silently nodded, his eyes glued to the toy.</p><p>Ramsay gave a pleased sigh. Seriously, it’s easy to please his pets. That’s why they’re better than humans. No arguing, no this or that shit like with Myranda. He got that bitch a necklace and she ‘didn’t like it’. There, Reek was simple as fuck. Hell, he deserved something nice from time to time.</p><p>Ramsay however immediately scratched that thought. Who was he lying to? It was a jape, like any other. Seeing a twenty-something man in front of him carress a toy like a baby. Ew. Still, funny.</p><p> </p><p>“So, how do you want to name it?” Ramsay sat down at last, his legs crossed.</p><p> </p><p>His dumb mutt seemed to think for a bit and then it slowly leaned its head to side. “Theon.”</p><p> </p><p>The answer took Ramsay back by surprise and words: ‘Wrong answer,Reek, very wrong answer’ were just about to leave his throat but then he stopped himself. How interesting.</p><p>“Theon.” he mumbled. “Where did you get that name from?”</p><p> </p><p>He stared intently at the weak man in front of him. He watched his pet’s brows furrow in confusion, like he was trying to remember something important but with no success. Hell, he looked like he was having a headache. For Reek it was probably true.</p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t know.” smelly thing uttered at last, his words slow and heavy. “It’s… I don’t know. The first name I thought of.”</p><p> </p><p>Ramsay stared at him, focused, not blinking. Is it possible - that - he was telling the truth?</p><p>Did he really not know where that name came from?</p><p> </p><p>“Theon.” Ramsay repeated. “Maybe it’s from a family member?”</p><p> </p><p>Reek frowned even more and shook his head. “I… don’t have family, m’lord.”</p><p>Ramsay knew his pet very well. He knew when the thing was lying and when it was honest. Theon Greyjoy was transparent, hell - and Reek… was even worse.</p><p> </p><p>The poor broken thing really didn’t remember.</p><p> </p><p>The sheer absurdity made Ramsay snicker.</p><p>“Well, alright then. Theon it is.” he laughed and shook his head, a glee on his boyish face. "A terribly ugly name, Reek, but hey. It's your call."</p><p>“Theon.” Reek absently replied and gently carressed the toy once more. “Theon…” he curled in on himself, petting the ragged doll.</p><p>“You better take good care of it, though.” Ramsay got up and shook the dust off his pants. “I paid for it. It was pricey.”</p><p> </p><p>Whatever comforting spell lulled him into relaxing was now broken. Reek’s eyes immediately focused on his Lord, wide in terror. “P-paid? M’lord, Reek- Reek is not worth a single coin- Lord!”panic poured out of him, his breathing speeding up.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Reek. Who said I paid in gold?”</p><p> </p><p>At this, Reek calmed down a bit and blinked, holding the squid closer.</p><p> </p><p>“I paid the Iron price.” Ramsay cockily grinned, turned on his heel and left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Camping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theon and Ramsay take children to a picnic. Fun for whole family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theon’s body bumped up and down as the horse slowly walked the rocky ground of the Northern forest. Every single step served to remind him of his sore legs and back, of bruises between his thighs and on his back.</p><p>“And that there, Daddy’s princess, is a black-backed woodpecker.” he heard a pleased cackle from the front. His husband sounded like a child, excitedly pointing to a tree.<br/>Their daughter sat on his horse, secured by her father’s lap.<br/>Always like that, Theon thought. Ramsay and Rawley rode forward while he and their son stayed behind, their horses slower, unable to keep the stride of his husband’s strong colt. <br/>The girl gave a grin and gripped a small bow tighter.</p><p>“Come here. Alright, now draw it, like that…” Ramsay instructed the black-haired girl to draw her bow (black like his husband’s, Theon noticed), aiding her, his big hand securely placed on her small one. Always like that. The man simply insisted on giving her arrows instead of dolls, or at least to cut off the heads of the ones she received. It was apparently a fun game for two of them to try and sentence the little dolls to death sentences and when Theon would overhear the ‘game’ which consisted of Rawley suggesting to cut girl’s hands off and throw it to dogs, he nearly fainted. Olenna Tyrell received her gift snapped in two.</p><p>Girl’s brows furrowed in focus as she aimed.<br/>The arrow slashed the air prompting a breath hitch of her brother. Theon winced and looked at his timid son who grabbed reigns of his pony tighter.</p><p>The arrow landed far above the bird which immediately chirped and flew away.</p><p>Rawley made an angry grimace, her teeth grinding against each other.<br/>“Don’t worry.” His husband pet her head. “It was a fine shot.” and then he turned his head to Theon who rode behind him.</p><p>“Wasn’t it, Reek?” he asked with a grin.</p><p>“Indeed, m’lord husband.” Theon hung his head. Bastard. Whatever archery skills Rawley got, it was from him, not his Husband. He pitifully looked at his mangled fingers. Why was he even thinking of it? It’s been years since he’d drawn a bow. And besides, it wasn’t his business to fire it in the first place.</p><p>She took so much after Him, Theon thought sadly. Both of his children had black hair - black like raven’s feathers, but Rawley inherited Bolton eyes. Both the color and the cruelty in them.</p><p>Theon swayed his look to his son that rode next to him, an insecure boy with locks that fell around his face, framing his feeble features; thin shaky lips. And eyes like big, blue sea, green at edges.<br/>When Ramsay first saw the babe in Theon’s hands he simply looked at the boy’s face with sheer disinterest, turned on the heel and shrugged.</p><p>“The next one will be better.”</p><p>With their daughter the story was entirely different. Theon couldn’t remember if he had seen his husband’s eyes light up like that in his entire life. Maybe the first time he tied Theon to the cross, though.<br/>Childish gleam and grin spread from his cheek to cheek as he immediately picked up the girl in his arms and turned her around in sheer awe.<br/>“Look at this, Reek. The heiress of Dreadfort.” he said in marvel. “She has Bolton eyes.” he shot him a cruelly satisfied glance and returned the look on the little babe, spinning her around.</p><p>And that’s how it stayed. Ramsay seemed to forget that they even had a son on occassion while Rawley had his attention at all times. Hell, even more than Theon did at this point. Princess, Heiress, Little Lady, whatever nicknames Ramsay made up for her.</p><p>Because nothing seemed to make Ramsay happier than running around the halls and watching Rawley literally terrorize any and every person she saw on her way. Even Boys couldn’t believe the level of spoilness Ramsay showed her.</p><p>Well, just because his husband found a new pastime, he didn’t forget about Theon. Dungeons seemed to make him just as happy as ever. Saltire was their ‘playtime’ as he explained to their children. “Why does mommy return with wounds?” their son would ask and Ramsay would pet Theon’s hair lovingly. “Because mommy asks for them.”</p><p>And what the fuck could Theon even do to that except nod? “Your father regularly skins me and then kisses my forehead and tells me he loves me, so I haven’t thrown myself off the tower yet?” Was he supposed to say that instead?</p><p>“Let’s stop here.” Ramsay ordered, snapping Theon out of his thoughts and braced his horse.</p><p>It was a clearance in the woods, a little place surrounded with trees and a few rocks.<br/>Ramsay hopped down - Rawley, of course, in his hands (something he would never do for their son - whom he simply dropped down a few times) and gently placed her on the mossy ground.</p><p>“Start the fire.” He ordered flatly to Theon and Rheon and adjusted his bow. “Rawley, come over.” his face lit up and he waved his hand.<br/>The girl followed him with a little hop in her walk.</p><p>Theon sighed and leaned down to collect branches for the fire. “You know, we don’t hang around enough. Like, as a family. And that’s just not proper.” Ramsay had proclaimed that afternoon.<br/>It was funny. His voice sounded like they were some happy minor lordly family from King’s Landing, going to trips to woods and baking pies.</p><p>Rheon shook as he helped his mom collect the woods. Poor boy didn’t like it - well, he didn’t like anything that involved his father, truth to be told, but being in the woods, without a blanket to hide was even more stressful. Theon took off his cloak to cover the boy with it. At least something. He always shook, and Theon couldn’t figure if it was cold, hunger, or fear of the own man that helped make him.</p><p>They finished the job and sat to rest on the rocks around the fire licks. Night had already set, eating away at the dusk, covering the woods with a black coat of stars. The silence was broken by a roaring laughter. <br/>Two shadows looked terrifying as they approached, illuminated by yellow and orange lights.</p><p>“Mommy!” Rawley screamed when she finally saw Theon sitting down and ran towards him. Theon’s breath stopped as she gave him a tight hug (somehow managing to squeeze all his bruises and make them ache even more. A talent inherited from her father, probably).<br/>“Look! Look how strong daddy is.” she grinned and pointed at Ramsay who was hauling a huge boar on his shoulders. A genuine smile decorated his face as he dropped the animal on the ground. Not one of those fake smiles he gave Theon when he was flaying him in the dungeons while promising everything will be fine. No. A happy, genuinely happy smile.</p><p>“He killed it and carried it alone.” she grinned and grabbed Theon’s hand. “He shot it in the eye.”</p><p>“Lovely.” Theon swallowed. Why the hell, why the hell was he teaching a five year old girl to hunt boars? He stilled himself immediately though.<br/>Hunting was perfectly normal, right? Yet he had developed quite a distaste for it since…<br/>...well. Since a lot of things happened.</p><p>“Alright, help me here.” Ramsay called out to Rawley and threw a rope over a tree branch. He tied the boar’s leg to it and pulled, lifting it in the air. “Are you hungry?”</p><p>The girl eagerly nodded and the only thing Theon could hope for in that moment was that she won’t learn how to eat from her Father. She should at least have some manners. He once again thought of Olenna Tyrell and her shocked face when she saw- well, nevermind.</p><p>“Alright, first we have to skin it. Get me my hunting knife.”</p><p>Theon cringed at the mention of skinning but stilled himself. Alright. That was just food. Just hunting.</p><p>Ramsay in the meantime pushed the big knife in Rawley’s hand and dragged his thumb alongside the corpse. “See how thick it is? The skin? With humans it’s different, you know.” he crouched down, speaking slowly. “For humans we use a different knife. Like the one at my belt. Look.”</p><p>Theon was on his feet before he knew it. “No.”</p><p>Ramsay rose his head slowly.</p><p>“She is five. You are not… you are not teaching her how to skin people.”</p><p>“She’s a Bolton. She has to learn eventually,” Ramsay calmly replied and turned his look to Rawley again. “Flayed man is on our banners.”</p><p>“No.” Theon croked.</p><p>“Traditions are important, Reek.”</p><p>There was a second of tense silence between them, both of them staring at each other’s eyes. Neither of them budging. Like enemies over a battlefield.<br/>Ramsay’s eye shined with a sudden spark, breaking the fight. The spark of a new game on front. Hold on his flaying knife tightened. “Rheon”, he cooed, “come over here.”</p><p>Air pushed out of Theon’s lungs. No, he thought, no, Ramsay, I surrender, you won. Breath stopped in his throat as he stared at his husband, his hand, their daughter - apparently unbothered by all. Rheon’s eyes went wide and he shakily got on his legs.<br/>Theon grabbed his wrist before he could even process his movements and pulled the boy back. He felt like in fever, like in some ugly dream. Ramsay’s face was illuminated by tall fire as he stared down at them, the hand still on his belt - so, so close to that horrifying tool.</p><p>“No.” Theon shook his head and tears formed at the corners of his eyes. “No.”</p><p>“Come to your Father.” Ramsay spoke, his attention fully focused on Rheon. The boy gave an insecure look and got up once again, but Theon pulled him back in his lap.</p><p>“No.” his voice broke.<br/>“Yes.” Ramsay replied.<br/>“No.”</p><p>His husband gave an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me come and get him.” he yawned, and then suddenly, his stare focused back on Theon. “I can make it much worse. For both of you. And I think you know very well. That I don’t. Make empty threats.”<br/>The last words were said with danger in them; worse than a snake’s bite. Theon’s cheeks, chin, face, brows - everything twitched as he gave a sob and let go of their son.</p><p>Would he do it? Could he do it? He knew Ramsay better than anyone and- a terrible truth crossed his mind - he could. Theon entertained for a second thought of just slitting their son’s throat and putting him out of misery, out of reach of the flaying knife but- he knew he couldn’t make it. The moment he’d reach for a knife, Ramsay would already be on top of him and…<br/>He had never fought his husband. Well. He did at beginning, sure, but after that he- wouldn’t dare. Terror that man instilled into him was too grave, but- for Rheon he would strangle him in the dirt in a second. If he only could.<br/>He shuddered at the thought of Ramsay making a lesson out of this - Rheon’s finger, or his calf, or - his back or… or Gods know what. He had already figured Ramsay could do it.<br/>The only other question is - would he.</p><p>The boy gave a startled look to his mother and turned his head towards the father who simply nodded; his face like a stone. Poor child was always terrified. And now, with mother crying, he- wasn’t sure he could make those few steps. He gave a look to his sister who simply stared with big, bright eyes, curious.<br/>There were no more than ten steps between Rheon and Ramsay, but to Theon each of them passed like an hour.</p><p>“Please’, he sobbed and covered his face. “Please-.” he said even quieter.<br/>He couldn’t watch.<br/>“I won’t hurt him.” Ramsay said, carefully.</p><p>Theon remembered those exact words and that exact tone - uttered to him more times than he could count. And they were always a lie.</p><p>Rheon’s feet stopped in front of his father’s. Rawley simply stared at both of them - whether she realized or didn’t realize the situation was unimportant. She will when the knife hits her brother’s skin. <br/>His husband’s face was like of marble.<br/>The moment he saw Ramsay’s fingers get closer to the knife handle, Theon screamed and closed his eyes tightly.</p><p>A slash was heard. Almost drowned out by a pleading cry.</p><p>“There. Good boy. Go give that to your mother.”<br/>The voice was calm. Comforting. Peaceful.<br/>Theon opened his eyes to see Ramsay petting their child’s head with a loving gesture. The boy held a little pouch in his hand.</p><p>“We picked up some herbs on the way.” he gently pushed the boy towards Theon and the child stumbled a bit. “Grind it. You know. To spice the meat.”</p><p>Theon felt like something broke in him. His breathing was heavy and lung-wretching.</p><p>Ramsay cocked his head a bit to the side. A pleased stillness washed over him. “What? Darling? Is something wrong? You seem pale.” he sang. “Ah! You didn’t think-.” suddenly he broke in laughter, “You didn’t think I would-?” he barked gleefully.</p><p>“Reek. Sweetheart. Come on.” he grinned. “It’s a family picnic. We are having fun, aren’t we?” he spread his arms.<br/>Rawley also lifted hers up in the air, imitating her father.</p><p>Theon felt like he was about to faint in the spot. A jape. That’s what their child’s life was to Ramsay. Another cruel joke.<br/>Still, he sighed, relieved.<br/>Not before he caught Ramsay’s cold eye which meant that someone will be flayed tonight. But at least it wasn’t Rheon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Food Court</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>anon: Ramsay leaves Reek at a table in the food court while he picks him up a treat for being a good boy and he's just clutching his stuffy and tryna hide from everyone but like Sansa spots him and comes over to talk</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ramsay's commands were pretty simple. Stay here, stay put, be a good boy and wait - I'll bring you something nice. So Reek obeyed.</p><p>His master got lost in the crowd of men and women in fancy suits and expensive dresses and Reek was left all alone in the middle of that chaos. People mingled around him but he simply stood where he was left, like frozen in time, his face pale and ghostly. He hated when Master left him like this. All those people passing and talking and that chatter and all those loud noises -... He wished they would go home.<br/>He sniffled and squeezed his stuffed toy harder. It was a fancy party but Ramsay said he could bring it. And that he mustn't hide beneath the tables or cry or go into one of his panic fits when he would start beating himself.</p><p>"...Theon?" A feminine voice snapped him out of his hypnotic state. He turned his head around.</p><p>Sansa Stark only got more beautiful with age. Long hair of color like a chestnut tree, fitting for a fair forest nymph. Reek swallowed. Master said people will approach him and ask for Theon and that he had to play the part. It was tough considering Reek didn't remember that man very well.</p><p>"T-Theon." He stuttered and pulled his toy to the chest, hugging it tight. Where was Master? Why wasn't he here? Why did he leave Reek alone?<br/>He supressed a sob but his knees shook. He felt like he would piss himself right there.</p><p>"I'm…" Sansa gave a stunned answer, frozen by the sight before her. "I haven't… seen you in so long. Where have you been?"</p><p>Reek's eyes got wet. Master rehearsed this with him. He gave him a couple lines he could tell people and how to reply to some common questions but it was so hard. Much harder than Reek thought it would be.</p><p>"I...I… I've been good." He croaked. "How...how have you been?" He continued.</p><p>Sansa stared at him like she couldn't believe what was going on. Reek faintly smiled at his success.</p><p>"Are you… Working somewhere? Have you been studying?" She uncomfortably asked, obviously eager to finish the conversation as soon as possible.</p><p>To this Reek panicked. Was he supposed to make something up? He looked away with wide eyes, searching for Master.<br/>Ramsay cheerfully whistled as he stormed around the court table with a plate, filling it with cooked goods. And pushing his fingers into whatever he could on the table, snacking as he carried on with his mission.</p><p>"I… no." Reek turned his head back to Sansa. He ran out of lines. Well, he had a few more but none of them were fit. He sniffed his plushie and hugged it even tighter. He wished they were home. He would even like to be in the basement. Why did Master want him to do this?</p><p>"Ah. Well, I figured, you were never the college type." Sansa gave a warm smile. "Did you get married? Is that your toy or are you keeping it for someone? A niece?" She tilted her head a bit.</p><p>Reek simply shook his head.<br/>"No-."</p><p>"Ah! Miss Stark. Or is it Miss Baratheon now?" Ramsay cheerfully interrupted him with full mouth, walking over. Sansa's attention immediately diverted to him.</p><p>"In a bit, sir Bolton." She smiled. "Me and Joffrey are getting married in March."</p><p>"Well, that's good. Marriage is a wonderful thing." He nodded to her and stuck a piece of meat on his fork. "Just ask my Father. He's gotten married recently, you know. I've never seen him livelier. They go at it like rabbits. Whole house can hear them." He grinned, pleased with the inappropriate comment which made Sansa blush.</p><p>"Well, it's lucky me and Reek moved out. Isn't that right, Reek?" He pointed the fork at Theon as he continued to chew. Reek nodded.</p><p>"Reek?" Sansa asked uncomfortably.</p><p>"Oh. That's just a nickname." Ramsay patted his pet on head and devoted himself to his meal again.</p><p>"Are you not getting married as well soon, Mr. Bolton?" Sansa asked, her hands clasping together. It was obvious she wanted to run.</p><p>"Oh. For Jeyne, yes. But I can't just leave him, can I? You remember - alcoholism, drugs, car accidents… Reek is a good boy. Just needs a stern hand to guide him. Isn't that right, Reek?" Ramsay shot him with his icy eyes.</p><p>Reek nodded.<br/>"Open your mouth." Ramsay instructed and stabbed some meat and broccoli on the fork before pushing it into Reek's mouth.</p><p>"Good boy." He wiped him and repeated the gesture. Chatter went on between him and Sansa - a lot of courteous empty words mixed with Ramsay's jabs that were just on the edge of impoliteness but never overstepped the boundaries.</p><p>"I- have to go now." Sansa finally caught a chance to step back and escape the uncomfortable situation.</p><p>"Right. Mister Baelish was pretty eagerly looking for you. He's around here somewhere." Ramsay shoved a big bite into himself.</p><p>Sansa Stark blushed like a maiden whose private diary was just found out and quickly turned away to run. </p><p>Reek uncomfortably stood there, chewing little bites Master was putting in his mouth.<br/>"Are you enjoying yourself, Sweetie?" Ramsay asked, not even looking at him.<br/>"W-when are we going to go home?"<br/>"Soon. You are being very good."<br/>"I need to pee." Reek sobbed and dug his head into Ramsay's shoulder.</p><p>"Right. Come, I'll take you. Ned and Robb Stark are just on the way there." Ramsay lifted his arm for Reek to catch on.</p><p>Reek accepted and bit his toy to chew on one of the squid tentacles.<br/>He wanted to go home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Preparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theon tries to deal some drugs. Ramsay interjects.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theon uncomfortably looked around himself as he made a left turn at the street corner. The air was chill - one of those summer nights that required long sleeves, crispy and so, so silent. The night was almost black; or so it seemed, broken only by faint warm illuminations of streetlights. Round, old ones - which ran on gas until recently. Some poor old man had to get up on a ladder with a match and light the flame.<br/>Oh the things those lamps had seen.</p><p>Theon gave it a wary look and frowned. Behind the creamy areola, few Northern stars twinkled. It was only them... and Theon.</p><p>Which presented an issue. Because there was supposed to be another asshole there as well and Theon wished he would show the fuck up already. His entire arm was itching from sheer nerves. He gritted his teeth and lowered eyes from the ever-seeing lamp, ignoring all the romantic thoughts about its past.<br/>It was a piss poor lamp and it was a piss poor street with a cracked road and a few old square-shaped cars parked on it without any sense for proper parking rules, just thrown around like toys after a messy child's play. A piss poor street. Filled with piss poor things. And piss poor Ironborn. Theon felt like at home.</p><p>He nervously swallowed and looked at his watch. Half past midnight. The man was supposed to already be there. He tightened his grip around the bag of white powder in his pocket.<br/>'Blood is thicker than water', his mother once told him, meaning that nothing can break family apart and that they must make sacrifices for each other. Unfortunately, she forgot to account in that her oldest two sons were, just like the rest of the family, small and shitty criminals.<br/>So when Maron showed up at Theon's apartment with the bag and shoved it at his brother's chest, Theon couldn't say "no".</p><p>"It's easy, don't be a weepy pussy. You just have to give this to our guy waiting on the corner tomorrow night." He kept his hand at Theon's chest, "Don't worry. The police is never there. Rodrik and I would have done it but we have other shit to get to. We'll even let you keep a cut."</p><p>So Theon couldn't say no. He tried to hide his discomfort in front of his older brother - of course he's not a pussy, of course he can do it, who do they take him for? - but his heart hadn't stopped beating since. He just wanted it to be over. Midnight and thirty-five.</p><p>He let out a nervous breath and looked around once again before squinting his eyes. Was that...? In a distance he managed to make out a faint shadow of a man.<br/>Theon rose a hand and waved.</p><p>Suddenly the man pulled back in the dark. Theon stood there confused for a second.</p><p>A loud screeching sound of brakes and wheels sliding across the street made him turn his head around.<br/>Before he could even comprehend what was going on, strong, strong lights of car fares blinded him. His hand immediately flew up in the air, trying to protect the eyes. There was a voice saying something and as Theon tried to sharpen the view, the car door opened and three men stepped out.</p><p>It was only then he saw huge letters POLICE on the car front.</p><p>Theon's heart dropped to the heels of his feet. He felt his legs go numb. Like they were cut off and thrown into a freezer.<br/>He stood there like a deer for a second and then turned around to bolt forward. No police? No police, Maron, you fucking asshole? What a luck, the only time he went-<br/>He didn't manage to move even a step - turning around to run he simply hit the wall behind him and yiked.</p><p>"Freeze and put your hands in the air-" some voice said distantly. Theon's head echoed.<br/>Wide eyed, he grabbed the bag of powder from his pocket and shoved it in his mouth. Something in his animal hindbrain made that decision and his body obeyed.<br/>Like a child that got caught passing notes by a teacher and then decided to eat it instead of facing punishment.</p><p>He didn't even get to try salivating around it when he felt rough manly fingers push around his mouth and fish the bag out.<br/>"Not today." The man grinned.<br/>Theon choked as the plastic wrapper got pulled. He didn't even get to see man's face in the aftermath of strong white light. He only saw a fist aiming straight for his nose... and then he lost his consciousness.</p><p>***<br/>Theon woke up in pain. In terrible, terrible back pain. There was a loud throbbing somewhere by his right ear. Above the pinch of his nose, he could feel his pulse beating.<br/>For a second he hoped he was somewhere on a carpeted floor, waking up from a bad hangover. Recent events remained somewhere in the blackness of memory.</p><p>First thing he felt was something crusty above his lip. It ached and burned his skin, biting at it like acid.<br/>When he tried to bring up his fingers to wipe it, he realized his arms were twisted and awkwardly tied behind his back, pulling at the  pained shoulders. He groaned. <br/>He fished out his tongue and tried to reach his nose, tasting the dry, crusty layer of something metallic.<br/>With horror, he realized he was licking blood.<br/>Memories finally started coming to him.</p><p>Maron's flat and fucking cocaine, faintly lit street, man in a shadow, and then, at last - a fist in his face.</p><p>He opened eyes with some trouble; the flesh was swollen and bruising and heavy. With a flutter of eyelashes he managed to chase away the blur from his vision.</p><p>Light blinded him for a second and he was left blinking.<br/>The room was grey, dry and ugly, illuminated by strong LED light from above. The lamp flickered.<br/>It looked like a photo of a room taken with a too strong flashlight in late 80es.<br/>It took him a bit to figure out where he was.</p><p>Prison.<br/>Interrogation room.<br/>An uninterested man sitting on the stool in the corner, watching Theon with disdain.</p><p>"Well, well, well." Door opened with a loud bang and Theon shyed away, making a grimace. "Look what the sea washed ashore!" a jolly voice strode in the room hurriedly with a file in its hand.</p><p>"A squid!" it dropped a heavy file right in front of Theon.</p><p>Immediately, the hand started flipping through the papers.<br/>"Theon Greyjoy." the voice licked its lips. "No previous arrests, or- well, look at that. A charge for sexual assault." the man giggled and bent forward.</p><p>Only then Theon met face to face with a pair of two pale blue eyes, staring right at him.</p><p>"What'd you do? Grab her ass a bit too firmly?" the young man giggled and pulled away, his dark hair following him. "Riiight. Got a bit frisky there, didn't you?"</p><p>Without any ceremony, the man started pacing around the room. "Officer Bolton." he said, "Ramsay Bolton."</p><p>The name meant absolutely nothing to Theon. The only thing that meant anything to him right now was sending both Maron and Rodrik to Drowned hell and having sea monsters chew their dicks off.</p><p>"Oh, look. I gave you a bloody nose." Officer Bolton's hand showed out of nowhere in front of Theon's face and he tried to pull away, but the fingers tightly gripped his jaw.</p><p>"I think I broke it. Whoops. Sorry about that." Bolton cooed and brushed his thumb against it, pressing down.</p><p>Theon sharply inhaled from pain and threw his head back. What the-?</p><p>"Well. I'm sure you have some savings to get that treated." Bolton plopped down on the chair across the interrogating table and crossed his legs. Out of the pocket of his uniform he pulled out that damned bag with white powder.<br/>Theon gave it a panicked look of hatred.</p><p>"It's so funny, the way you tried to swallow it. Do you swallow a lot of things, Theon?" Ramsay threw it up in the air to catch it again.</p><p>Theon had no idea how to reply to that.</p><p>"It's nasty, actually. I've known people who ended up in ER, bag plastic tangled with their guts, and trust me, it's not a pretty sight." Ramsay chuckled. Which gave Theon an idea that, to the man in front of him, it probably was an incredibly amusing thing to witness.</p><p>"And don't even get me started on - what if it got ripped in your throat? Swallowing thiiis much of coke... Ouch." Ramsay flipped the bag in his hand, judging its weight.</p><p>"Assholes." Theon muttered under breath.</p><p>"What was that?" Ramsay's eyes perked up.</p><p>"Not- not you." Theon coughed. Well. You too, for catching me. But mostly Maron, Rodrik and- me, I, and myself. He cursed his own reflection in his mind's eye.</p><p>"Right. I see that, while let's be real, you're no criminal," Ramsay laughed in a way which made Theon feel lowkey insulted, "your brothers certainly are. Greyjoy squad, huh? Maron Greyjoy, five arrests, Rodrik Greyjoy, served two years in prison, later five years in another one, fourteen charges for public indecency and alcohol induced violence." Ramsay tapped at the files as he flipped through them. "Sheesh. That's not a nice environment for a perspective young man to grow up in, is it? Did they put you up to it?"</p><p>Theon wanted to sell them out both but, the image of two of them above his bed with knives and bats - and more importantly, his mother crying when she hears three out of three sons she has are in prison… tied his tongue. So he simply shook his head. No.</p><p>"You won't sell them out." Ramsay nodded, "I respect that."</p><p>There was a few seconds lasting silence. The young officer tapped the bag against the table.</p><p>"Is this all you had on yourself?" he swirled it around like it was something incredibly interesting and not a bag of second-grade coke.</p><p>Theon nodded and coughed, spluttering blood. He felt a tooth had come loose from the punch.</p><p>"Get him up." Ramsay snapped his fingers at one of the men behind him. Two tall officers; though Theon would put them among inmates, rather - with faces of people who were definitely from the streets themselves and probably got in the force just so they could legally beat the shit out of random fuckers - grabbed him up and threw him on the table. Ramsay stepped away to make space.<br/>Theon got slammed brutally against the hard surface.<br/>The hit was so severe he thought his skull cracked.</p><p>"Thank you, Damon, Skinner." Ramsay nodded, "Do hold him down."</p><p>Men moved to Theon's sides and strongly pressed down on his shoulders. His left cheek got squashed against the table. It was then he felt a terrible strain in his neck and Theon knew - when - if - they let him go, he will never be able to properly turn it again.</p><p>"People always lie when they say they had nothing else. So we have to... what do we have to? Skinner?"</p><p>"We gotta search 'em." an ugly crooked grin with teeth that looked like they belonged to some hobo with no dental insurance happily growled in Theon's ear.</p><p>Suddenly, he felt Bolton's weight on top of himself, his hands greedily reaching alongside Theon's hips and stomach.</p><p>"Nothing in the jacket pockets." Ramsay cooed as he brushed lips against Theon's neck.</p><p>His hands went down, all the way to Theon's ass. And gave a playful pinch.</p><p>"Nothing in back pockets, either."</p><p>Theon regretted all Playboy issues he's ever read and every campaign against sexual assaults and fetishization of women in media in that moment. Having another man's hands travel all around him like that-</p><p>Ramsay lowered down. Both his hands.<br/>And without mistake, uncomfortably close and pressed against his back, sliding down to his ass and below - Theon felt a hard bump brush against his jeans.<br/>The officer gave a shameless over-eager moan.</p><p>"Nothing down his legs either." Ramsay concluded and hopped up.</p><p>Theon gave a breath of relief. The men didn't let go of him but their hold wavered.</p><p>"But oh! Wait!" Bolton suddenly exclaimed and Theon tensed up once again. "There is one more place where you can hide that little stash of yours."<br/>Where? Where the hell could he even-</p><p>A thumb got dragged right between Theon's asscheeks.</p><p>"No-" Theon coughed, eyes going wide in terror, realization washing over him like a cold wave, "no, no, no- please no- I swear-"<br/>He tried to fight and rise his head but the grip on his shoulders immediately stiffened and he was, once again, firmly kissing the table surface.</p><p>He didn't see it.<br/>He heard it.</p><p>A snap of latex gloves.</p><p>"No!" he screamed this time in earnest and tried to thrash against the big hands, his pleads picking up pace. "No- I'm sorry I swear- I swear there is nothing there- that was all I had! All! Please-"<br/>Theon liked to think of himself as a tough guy. A handsome guy. A brave guy, a tough guy. Someone who could handle whatever life or his brother threw at him.<br/>Yet he couldn't believe that his pleas were starting to end in sobs.</p><p>His jeans got brutally stripped down, his boxers following.<br/>And he was left naked in the room.</p><p>He sobbed.</p><p>"Oh, this is lovely." he heard a husky voice behind himself, dark like wine, the one from grapes picked in early autumn, "you have such a nice one."<br/>The rubber glove passed over the flesh of his rump and then squeezed.</p><p>"Is the glove uncomfortable? I'd take it off but, I'd rather leave it for our second date. We don't know each other that well... yet." Bolton gave him a harsh slap and Theon yelped, trying to struggle free once again. "Don't worry. We have time to meet each other. Intimately." the man whispered like they were lovers.</p><p>The gloved finger started slowly circling around Theon's flesh, getting closer and closer to the hole, dangerously - like a little spider, crawling up...</p><p>"Addicts, dealers, scum like... well, you, not only your brothers, I guess..." Ramsay continued, "often hide something here too."<br/>He playfully tapped right at it.</p><p>"Please-"</p><p>"Oh shush. It's standard procedure, Theon. We have to make sure you're not lying to us."</p><p>The intrusion was so sudden and painful and Theon didn't even get to scream - he only felt the burn and his hole getting stretched by something so, so cold. He gasped like a fish on land, mouth freezing in horrified 'o', lungs emptied.<br/>His eyes went wide as he tensed up.</p><p>"First time?" the man behind him chuckled and gave another push. "We have to check well. This isn't enough. I might need to use another finger. Or two."</p><p>Theon almost fainted. Two? Even this hurt, hurt like hell and-</p><p>Ramsay let go of him and crouched down to stare at the ass which was starting to turn red from pinching and squeezing.</p><p>"Ah. I forgot." he clicked his tongue, as if he was just remembering something important, "Alyn, get me the lube. This boy is just... so tight. Maybe he managed to push it up real far."</p><p>Theon sniffed and felt tears trickle at the corners of his eyes.<br/>One of the men next to him - Skinner, presumably - chuckled dirtily and spread his legs to make more room for his balls. Or so Theon thought. Whatever the reason was, he felt like a prey to a hungry hyena.</p><p>The next push was bigger and painful, but he felt something thick and dripping with it, slicking up the entrance.<br/>Then the fingers separated in form of scissors and Theon breathlessly gasped.<br/>"A- a- a-" he choked out from pain as his entire body tensed, "fuck-;"</p><p>"He even moans like a bitch. I think he likes it, Rams." the other man - the one to Theon's left shoulder snickered. <br/>"Oh, that's good. He will handle prison better that way." Ramsay said and pulled his fingers out. Theon's eyelids fell in gratitude and his body relaxed. That's it. No more pain. No.</p><p>"Now, Theon," he heard the latex snap again as the gloves were taken off, "do you know what they do to guys like you in prison?"</p><p>Skinner snickered.<br/>Damon gave a huge grin.</p><p>Theon heard something slide up and down behind himself and his eyes shot wide open.</p><p>"To boys like you. You go to the gym, I see. No ass day skipping, and trust me - your effort pays off. You should've kept to protein powder, not this white shit you had with yourself. You are not cut from that cloth." Ramsay continued in sedated voice. Suddenly, there was a slick 'flap flap flap' sound as something was getting rubbed in his hands. "They see you, a pretty prey which barks but doesn't bite. Have you ever bitten someone?"</p><p>"I-."</p><p>"I have. My teacher, in fourth grade." the noise finally stopped. "Doesn't matter. Prison is not a nice place for a boy like you. You wouldn't fancy it."</p><p>A hand was on his cheeks again and Theon's neck was so twisted he hoped the veins would just snap and leave him dead.</p><p>Ramsay moved his hand, dripping with lube now, from his police baton and ogled at the thick dark weapon. He admired it for a few seconds.</p><p>The push in was slow, strange and uncomfortable and Theon screamed. He screamed as he felt like he was being split open.<br/>"No- no- no- please! Please!" the screams cut the room. Like a fish, getting gutted by knife, like his gills were being cut off, Theon tried to move away, but the baton was pressing in - too wide and too thick.<br/>Stretch of flesh was so slow and painful. He had seen the length and thickness of it before.</p><p>With a plop, in his hole, open wide and stretched beyond what he ever thought it would be - the horrifying thing made its way into him.<br/>He heard a guttural moan behind himself. Bolton's, no doubt.</p><p>"Oh fuck." the man couldn't contain himself as he pushed the baton deeper in, "You could totally ride it."</p><p>The baton was pulled back and then pushed further in, and Theon moaned in sheer pain.<br/>"He even gives sound effects." Skinner commented.</p><p>"He seems like a natural talent, Rams." the voice came from Theon's left, from the other man. "There is a bright future in front of him."</p><p>"Oh yeah?" Ramsay asked with amusement in his voice.</p><p>"Yeah. He could be a snuff film star." Damon grinned wide.</p><p>This seemed to amuse everyone present... except Theon. The baton was tirelessly going in. And out. In. Out. The slickness barely helped. The thing was huge - wide and long and unnatural and strange, and definitely something that didn't belong in human body. Theon sobbed and sniffed, his entire face blotchy from tears.<br/>There was no helping this.<br/>No face cream would ever set it right.</p><p>"Oh come on. It's rude from your brothers - they've set you up for prison but didn't really prepare you." Ramsay stopped for a second with the baton deep in Theon's ass.</p><p>He felt Bolton think about something.<br/>He remembered the bump he felt earlier while he was being checked.<br/>No.<br/>No.<br/>Theon held his breath.<br/>Just not that.<br/>Please.<br/>No.</p><p>But then, as the thought came over, Ramsay shook his head and pulled the stick out in one slick move, leaving Theon's hole up on display.<br/>He gave a startled gasp. Sudden emptiness felt weird. Cold, almost.</p><p>"Not today." Ramsay said something for himself and footstep moved away. "Alyn," he spoke, "how much does it weigh?"</p><p>"Half'a'kilo, boss."</p><p>Ramsay pensively nodded.<br/>"Alright, let him go." he motioned at his boys on Theon's shoulders.<br/>Despite hands having moved away, Theon still remained put, too scared to move an inch.</p><p>"Half, half, half. Alright." there was a sound of flipping papers. Theon remained glued to the table, his traumatized ass shivering in cold air, feeling so empty. This was not something he ever wanted or needed to experience in his life. His muscle memory will remember it forever. Nothing will ever wash this feeling away.</p><p>"Up, Greyjoy." Bolton pulled him sharply for hair and Theon yelped, startled and in pain.<br/>When he turned his head around, Bolton was counting dollar bills and rolling them in a nice bundle. He rose it up to Theon's face.<br/>"Here's half. Tell your brother he can expect the rest by the end of the week."</p><p>His knees felt suddenly so cold, like blood had drained from his entire body.<br/>"...What?" Theon asked in trembling voice, his eyes wide in shock.</p><p>The other men in the room laughed while Ramsay stood there with the money in his hand and a faint, secretive smile on his face.<br/>"Send Maron my greetings. Here." without warning, he stuffed the money in Theon's pocket.<br/>For a second Bolton staree at the broken and nauseated boy with a predatory smirk, before he reached in his wallet and pulled out a 20 dollar bill.</p><p>"And something for you too." Ramsay lowered his hand between Theon's legs, brushing past his cock which seemed to have shriveled from both coldness and fear. Yet, it traitorously twitched and Theon fought to stop tears.</p><p>"For having such a nice ass. And being so, so talented." Ramsay said slowly, maintaining eye contact, the fingers finding way to Theon's abused anus, red from gruesome treatment. The light papery corners of the bill teased the entrance, and fingers slowly pushed it in.<br/>"And for being so pretty." Ramsay kissed his cheek, withdrew his hand and stepped away.</p><p>"Right." he snapped his fingers, "Damon, Skinner, help him up to get dressed and send him home."</p><p>"Boss," Damon spoke, "should we like, drive him home or what?"</p><p>Ramsay picked up the bag of coke from Alyn and stopped at the door, seemingly thinking over something.</p><p>"No." his lips slowly spread into a smile, "I'm sure he can walk just fine." He opened the big door and without looking back, exited.<br/>"Or at least limp."</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. XOXO - Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Theon smokes a cigarette and learns some lessons. Inspired by Sylvanwhispers XOXO fanfic.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"And he's such a sweetheart too!"</p><p>Two of Theon's co-workers cooed behind the library shelves, in those excited high pitch whispers girls use when they brag about... exactly things like this. Overjoyed whispers cut through the library; absolutely unallowed voices and Theon would complain - but he felt like his complaining would be taken as petty complaints. Which... they would be.</p><p>"So last night, he shows up in front of my house - he's drunk, right? - and I'm like, are you crazy? My parents will hear you! But he says - come down, so I climb out the window and do so... He brought me flowers. It's so cute, isn't it?"<br/>Theon shot them a sour look.</p><p>He was sure he would've found such girly quarrels annoying even before... everything. He would've found them emotional and ha - oh so naive and e m o t i o n a l... so... womanly. But now the irritation was of different kind - there was a pang of angry jelaousy to his heart. Last time Ramsay brought him flowers it was as an 'apology' for having skinned his toe. Last time Ramsay showed up drunk in front of his house, he was mad with anger, threatening to kill him, and held a fire poker right over Theon's neck.<br/>Even weeks after the carpet beater in Ramsay's hands had abused Theon's poor bum, Theon still couldn't sit properly. He had to lean on his left thigh just to avoid the purple leftovers of the aftermath. When he was getting beaten it hurt, but it didn't stop just when Ramsay stopped.<br/>He's even been pushing his bike rather than riding it lately. It did very little to relieve the pain - considering that his lame leg also hurt.</p><p>He looked at the big clock hanging on the wall. An ugly thing which seemed more like a judge ticking to his sentence. 4pm. Soon, his shift ends. Ramsay didn't stop by today. He visited from time to time, mostly to complain about what waste of time that whole library gig was, often accompanied with delusionally romantic daydreams of Theon being some kind of his trophy wife. He had no idea what his boyfriend meant with all his stories which were equivalent to song of medieval bards... in his own way.<br/>But Ramsay visiting was less scary than him simply barging in the house at night. At least this gave Theon time to prepare for whatever mood Ramsay chose to be in that way, which changed about as often as the weather did.</p><p>Noise behind the shelves attracted his attention once more; excited squealing and laughter of the girls. He really doubted any of them were scared of coming home to their boyfriends.</p><p>And once again, the jelaous pang bit his heart like a snake. He was... he was... he was happy, wasn't he? He-. He loved-. And-. Even if Ramsay sometimes- he's trying- even-... The tight line around his neck where Ramsay choked him with a tie two days ago stung. And the purple flesh from beating hurt. And the middle of his back, where he hit the knob while trying to back away from his 'boyfriend' felt like a squashed pear. And there he sat, awkwardly bent, his mind working like a broken mill and saying, unsurely: 'Ramsay is trying'. And trying to justify all the hits, despite the defense getting weaker and weaker with every thought. There was something fucked up there; justifying all the things which could never be justified. Any psychiatrist would consider him a freak for that messed up line of thought. Couldn't it be simpler? Couldn't it be like those girls-?<br/>And then he remembered how he thought Ramsay was a nice guy before he turned his world upside down once again, and how he missed his captor, and how he even missed all those feelings of fear.</p><p>The feelings built up somewhere in his throat, and he felt like he will burst in tears in the middle of the library from stress and fear. His breath started getting short and quick and-.</p><p>He reached into his bag - and the hand froze. His therapist had given him anti-anxiety pills for attacks like this but of course- Ramsay took them away. Because there was no reason for Theon to have them. And there was no reason for him to use them without Ramsay's permission. What would he even be anxious about? All Ramsay does is out of love and out of goodness of his heart and...<br/>It was more mundane than that.<br/>Ramsay hated when he would come home calm and collected instead of shivering and cowering. There was nothing fun about lack of fear for him. Cats don't like playing with calm mice.</p><p>But his hands were trembling - his fingertips turning blue, getting progressively colder, like he had stuck them in ice - *which Ramsay had done to him once, by making him hold a hand in an ice bucket for half an hour* -  and Theon couldn't stop the shivers. <br/>He could use a drink. Except he wasn't allowed. He could count to ten. Except it wasn't helping.</p><p>It was obvious his breath was quickening and filling the silent space, considering one girl peeked from behind the shelf.<br/>"Hey," her face made a worried grimace, "are you okay? You look nervous. Do you want a cigarette?"</p><p>Theon stared at her for three long seconds.<br/>Heaven sent.</p><p>***</p><p>It's been quite a while since he smoked. Long, long time ago, before... everything. Back when he partied and tried to look really cool in front of chicks on campus. And even now, years after, the cigarette made him calmer; sure, there might have been some scientific explanation (smoke slowing his heart rate), or emotional (a coping mechanism learnt within society), or... but he felt less nervous as he pushed his bike home. Less stressed.</p><p>He could spot black Mercedes atrocity from a mile away in front of the house; the place he's come to call home. Well. Home is where your heart is, he guessed. And also where you were applied and approved to live. And where government had data that you respite at.<br/>And sometimes it seemed his only true home was that forsaken cellar.<br/>Theon shivered and sighed, pushing on. Was Ramsay right? Did he really have no place among... other, normal people? The girls he worked with? He felt like an impostor there when Ramsay would bring him flowers to the workplace and he had to act a happy boyfriend, and a mental nutcase who was so happy to have someone care so much for him.</p><p>He parked it and took few bold steps ahead. TV was on. A sports match. Ramsay usually turned them on and watched through them like through glass when he was bored.</p><p>"I'm home." Theon unceremoniously declared as he shut the door behind himself.</p><p>He could see Ramsay's head perk up in excitement... not unlike a shadowcat hearing wooden birches crack under feet of a rabbit.<br/>And on the TV went a handball match of... second-league Haystack Hall team beating equally pathetic team from Ritterbridge. The game had intensity of two crippled knights yielding wooden swords at each other and moaning like really badly paid porn actors. It fell in background.</p><p>Which meant Ramsay had plenty of time to think how to soothe his boredom. Mostly aimed at Theon's 'farce of a job' and 'how happier he would be if he could stay home' and maybe he's just provoking Ramsay, and maybe he would need to be kept at home so he doesn't embarrass himself in the public and all things that got him hard even before he'd touch Theon.</p><p>Ramsay strode towards him with a grin showing something had been stewing in his mind for the entire afternoon when-</p><p>he stopped.</p><p>The air suddenly shifted. Almost like it could be cut.<br/>Theon hiccuped in fear, his eyes going wide. Something suddenly turned wrong.<br/>The game of the century on TV disappeared somewhere far, far away.</p><p>"Were you-?" Ramsay frowned. He grabbed Theon's shirt and pulled him closer like a disobedient dog. Like a dog, he stuck nose in Theon's hair and deeply, sharply inhaled.<br/>"Were you smoking?" Ramsay pulled away with disgust.</p><p>"I-." Theon stared at him for a second. "Just one- I mean-."</p><p>The guts his boyfriend had to pull together such a grimace - after all the packs that found their way in Theon's trash, drawers, table, discarded in forgetfulness. And the smell that ocassionally lingered after night bar visits and stayed for days on Theon's bedsheets and pillowcases. He's been a victim of second-hand hazard for more than enough times- and now, Ramsay was pulling such face?<br/>But many things that were allowed for Ramsay weren't allowed to Theon.</p><p>Ramsay's hand tensed and Theon thought he will for sure strike him. Not only did he have danger of Ramsay's unprompted anger, but also spoiled fit of his planned out game being ruined. Like a child that was just told he can't go to an amusement park.</p><p>They stood like that for about half a minute - each second passing like a clock - and then the grip relaxed.</p><p>"Where did you even get it?"<br/>"A- a co-worker gave it to me." Theon nervously swallowed. He just gave more ammunition to Ramsay to use against his job. He's been trying so hard to hold that fort, and it was very easy for Ramsay to start firing arrows at it and slowly bring it down, like he had brought down so many other things. He always won.</p><p>"A co-worker." he clicked his tongue.<br/>"She just thought I looked nervous." Theon jumped in before any jelaous accusations made their way from Ramsay's lips, "A bit skittish-."</p><p>"So she decided to treat you with some old-fashioned stress relief."</p><p>"I was-."</p><p>"Why were you nervous in the first place?" Ramsay suddenly let him go and took a step back. Theon didn't dare properly straighten his back. It was best to stay meek at times like this and wait out the fit, but - when he finally dared to rise his look - he saw Ramsay didn't burn with anger as he thought he would.</p><p>"I mean. You know. You know I get nervous." Theon breathed in and gave an unsure wave of a hand. The storm seemed to be passing. "You know."</p><p>Ramsay nodded.</p><p>"I understand." he said sympathetically, in a warm, honest voice.<br/>He knew Ramsay was capable of some sort of understanding; of lucidity; which Theon didn't get to experience very often. His eyes sparkled in hope that this voice shall remain through the night.</p><p>"Come." Ramsay gently took his hand.<br/>And Theon accepted it.<br/>Very like a naive lamb being dragged to slaughter.</p><p>Bastard lead him out, to the porch - to a little bench on it (which Theon insisted on getting with his own money). Something of his own.</p><p>"Sit." Ramsay instructed.<br/>While Theon managed to get his lame leg positioned, Bolton procured a packet of cigarettes out of his pockets and a lighter.</p><p>"Go ahead." he nodded, remaining to stand, "Serve yourself. Let's talk." he sighed and moved his predatory look away, to the woods. To somewhere far away.</p><p>"Thank you." Theon nodded and picked one out. Ramsay even leaned over to light it for him.</p><p>"Nervous, you say?" Ramsay dug his hands in pockets. "Because of me?"<br/>Theon meekly nodded, a rare moment of courage taking over him. He knew Ramsay could listen. He could; albeit rarely, but at least it was possible.</p><p>"Or well, should I phrase it better... nervous of me holding you accountable." Ramsay wisely concluded. "Holding you accountable to certain rules we've established for your own safety. And not letting it slide when you fuck up. Unlike the whole self-help shit they teach you. Wooo, forgive and forget."</p><p>Theon took a drag. It seemed to burn so fast in the night, one little warm spot in his hands.</p><p>"That's the problem, you know, these days. People don't learn shit from their actions. Because nobody holds them accountable." Ramsay continued with his monologue, like he was his father and not a- ...boyfriend. "So people just you know. Forgive themselves for everything. And then forget. And never learn shit. Am I right?"</p><p>"Y-yes. Thank you." Theon bit his lip, head swimming. These things - things his therapist told him versus things Ramsay told him always... produced a clash in the middle of his forehead. Hell, even things he told himself immediately cowered before Ramsay's confident voice.</p><p>"That was old Theon's problem. He partied, drank, and... was never held accountable. Until I came in the story." Ramsay patiently watched the flame burn. "But it's okay. This is an entirely different page, isn't it?"</p><p>Theon gratefully nodded.<br/>"I'm- I'm glad." he choked out, "That you're trying. With me." And that you didn't give up, despite all that you do to me, and that you did, and that you will do-.</p><p>"Lessons are important." Ramsay now crouched and leveled their eyes. He gently petted Theon's cheek. "This?" he pointed at the cigarette, "This isn't good for you."</p><p>Theon nodded meekly. He took the last drag and threw it on the floor, stomping the little flare with his foot.<br/>And just as he was about to turn his head, calmer, and get up- Ramsay took out another one.</p><p>"Go on." he said and rose the cigarette to Theon's face.<br/>"I- no. Thanks. I've had enough." Theon declined and tried to get up once again, but he was firmly pressed back in the seat by a strong hand on his shoulder.</p><p>"I don't think you understand, sweetling. I said - go on." Ramsay said this slowly, each word measured out. Their eyes locked. Ramsay's pale and sharp ones - against Theon's, round and big, sea-green.</p><p>It was only then he realized Ramsay's game.</p><p>The air shifted so suddenly, like temperature had dropped, and the pines grew taller, and the night got darker, and then a terrified shadow formed in Theon's gut.</p><p>"I- Ramsay- no- please-." he choked out, but the hand simply tightened its grip.</p><p>"I hate that word." Ramsay's words were sharp as a knife's edge, and equally as threatening, "Because people always say please this and please that. You especially. You always ask for things. Instead of taking your lessons and punishments like a big boy."</p><p>Theon's lips trembled as he stared at the offered cigarette, and he didn't back away when it was pushed in his mouth, lightly hanging off his lips.</p><p>"You think your 'please' will just fix everything. It won't. If I give in once, then I have to give in next time, and then the third time, and then? Where would we be?" Ramsay took out a lighter and then a flash of fire sparked the cigarette's end, smoke starting to rise from it.</p><p>The ashy taste filled Theon's mouth, making his tongue go dry like sand. He felt small. Like his dad caught him smoking behind the building, and now was giving him a lesson, and when he looked at Ramsay he saw a looming figure with a stern look, with authorative presence, with-.</p><p>"Dad- please-." Theon choked through the wet paper on his lips. It really felt like standing in front of Balon once again, with a punishment at his hands and-.</p><p>"Drag it in, sweetheart. You did a great job earlier." Ramsay gripped his jaw. "Or you'll swallow them. Whatever works for you."</p><p>Theon's lungs got blocked somehow, but he still dragged it in, not moving his wetted look away from Ramsay's intent eyes.<br/>He wasn't lying. He had an entire pack there. And it lasted.</p><p>Fifth cigarette in, Theon couldn't even taste anything except bitter ashes, and tenth he couldn't even drag it in anymore, and fifteenth the smell took over his clothes, and nose, and hair, and Ramsay still wasn't letting go, and by sixteenth he broke in tears and sobs, begging, pleading, crying and bargaining. There were a few more to go, and each one of them was like a Devil's lash on his tastebuds. He remembered a pack used to be nothing back in days before-<br/>before Ramsay.<br/>But it's been so long. And nicotine was a strange thing in his body now. Foreign. Poisonous. Working even faster due to his anxious breathing and circling around his veins faster. He started feeling that familiar tingling in his fingers; the one when too much of the poison came in.</p><p>"Ramsay. Dad. Daddy, please, I- please-. I won't- I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Theon's head had fallen down three cigarettes ago, but now he was actively sobbing. Tears poured down freely.<br/>He wasn't even looking at his captor anymore; and he wasn't sure he was even asking Ramsay for mercy anymore. It was some strange and stern, scary part of Ramsay he had rarely seen. Breaking furniture and hitting him were one thing, but this- felt like there was no way out, and that it will never end, and he couldn't even cry it out the way he did broken arms or a nose or a bad bruise.</p><p>Ramsay at last sighed and looked at the box.<br/>"There are a few more to go, darling."</p><p>"I can't- I can't anymore. I'll choke. Ramsay-."<br/>There was a displeased tongue click.<br/>"Daddy. Please. Please." he whispered, "I'm- I've learned it, the lesson, I-." there was a yearning sob. Theon's hands surged forward and grabbed on his torturer's shirt, firmly gripping it, looking for comfort.<br/>"Paws off me." a threat came back but Theon simply whimpered and tightened his fingers in soft cashmere.<br/>It wasn't even about the smell or taste or anything anymore - he just wanted it to be done. The point must've been made.<br/>"Please. Daddy. Please." his voice quivered and he pushed his head in Ramsay's chest, not budging. It was done, it had to be done, and he dropped down to his knees, his hands working fast to unleash Ramsay's belt. He was sorry. Ramsay had to see how sorry he was. How he was apologizing. For making him upset, and for not listening, and - that was so wrong of him, and he deserved that punishment-. The haze spun Theon's mind as he worked to unbuckle it. All the things his therapists had said, and all the things he thought were 'proper' seemed so silly.</p><p>Ramsay finally sighed in content and put the box away.<br/>"There are six more." he shook the box.</p><p>"Please. I've- I've learnt it." Theon's lips shook and he finally managed to get to the zipper. He was sorry. He will never again-.<br/>"So. What's the lesson?"</p><p>"No- cigarettes. No. No smoking." Theon bit his lip and finally dared to look up at his "boyfriend" - is that what you call him? he sure did in front of Asha - his eyes red and wet. Everything still tasted so bitter. Like he had licked the cliffs of a recently-erupted volcano.<br/>The real lesson went unsaid, it being "no doing things I didn't give you a written permission for".</p><p>"Alright." Ramsay nodded and pet his hair. "I should make you finish with your punishment, you know. But I won't." he murmured as his pants were being pulled down in a guilt-ridden attempt to fix it all.</p><p>"Do you know why I won't, Theon?" he continued, gently dragging his hand through the brown locks; his voice sweet like honey. The voice that always seemed to know something more than Theon did. And whenever it was used, Theon's thoughts simply checked out, being attracted to it like a fly.</p><p>Theon shook his head. </p><p>"Because I love you." Ramsay placed a kiss to his forehead, a victorious grin spreading on his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Second date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sequel to the officer Bolton story from 'preparations'.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The humiliation Theon felt continued lingering in his body for weeks after the incident. He couldn't shake it off. And the phantom feeling of a huge police baton in his ass was the least problematic thing out of them all.</p><p>It was really the shame and frustration and anger that bit at his heart like a <i>snake</i> - the hatred for that <i>Bolton man</i> and his fucking guts and the way he carried himself... and the way he tricked Theon into trusting him. That hurt more than anything.<br/>It was being the butt of a joke that hurt him.</p><p>He didn't of course tell Maron about <i>everything</i>, he only spat at him and threw the money at his ratty evil face and screamed that their "police connection" caught him and interrogated him before taking the drugs and giving the money.<br/>He skipped over the entire part about sexual abuse and gritted his teeth and said there is no way he's doing that shit ever again. He was done. He and Rodrik can go fuck themselves.</p><p>He walked down the street, huddled in his jacket, hands crossed at the chest to protect him from the wind which blew, carrying first red and orange leaves of the Autumn.</p><p>Suddenly, a car slowed down next to him and honked.<br/>Theon turned his head around.</p><p>A police car rolled at walking pace on the road, right two centimeters away from him. He didn't even need to try and guess who the driver was.</p><p>"Oh fuck off!" he groaned and huddled more in on himself, hissing at the man at the wheel.<br/>"I thought you'd be happy to see me." the man purred in that disgusting voice he used back at the police station. Officer Bolton was casually driving, his posture relaxed and confident. "I really hoped I would see you again." he leaned over and in the middle of the drive, opened the door. "Get in."</p><p>"What?!" Theon stopped and leaned back. "No! I haven't even done anything! Get the fuck away from me!"</p><p>"How haven't you?" Ramsay stopped and leaned back, mouth slowly spreading into a mischevious grin, showing his flashy teeth - not like of an ordinary <i>man</i>, Theon noticed - but more of a cat or some hungry animal like such.<br/>"You insulted the police officer just three seconds ago." he licked his lips. "So please, Theon Greyjoy, step in the vehicle before I get out and use handcuffs."</p><p>Theon stared at the man in shock and frustrated anger, in disbelief. His mouth slightly opened.<br/>The. Audacity.</p><p>"Or would you like that?" the man asked in low husky voice, leaning over now. "Would you like me to press you against the car? Grab your arms and pull them behind your back? Handcuff you?" he spoke, not moving eyes away from Theon, "You seemed to like it back in the station. I am sure you want me to force you. You sneaky, cheeky slut." Bolton laughed like a hyena and tapped at the seat.</p><p>"I even have my baton here if you missed it." he added in lower voice.</p><p>This made Theon shudder and he looked left and right, before sighing and plopping down on the co-driver's seat, closing the door behind himself.<br/>"What the fuck do you want?"</p><p>Ramsay licked his lips and leaned his neck towards Theon, his nose almost brushing against the hood of his jacket and took in a pleasant sniff, closing his eyes in content.</p><p>Theon held his breath in confusion and flabbergasted surprise. That was not normal. That was not normal human behaviour.</p><p>"What-" he swallowed, "What do you want?" he asked again, this time more insecure.</p><p>"Well, you've been arrested for dealing drugs. I have to make sure you're not doing it again, don't I? With your brothers... who knows what they've put you up to?" Ramsay sighed and puled away, hitting the gas. "I have to make sure." he took one hand off the wheel and carressed Theon's cheek.</p><p>"You're a good boy. You don't need that shit."</p><p>Theon gulped, and tried so hard to look away from Ramsay. "I- I don't- I didn't have a choice."<br/>It felt so scary to say something so vulnerable but - something in the air was weirdly tense. He couldn't lie. It was like the interior of Bolton's car belonged to an entirely different world, Schrodinger's box in which nothing came through.</p><p>"I'll give you a choice, don't worry. You simply need to be straightened out. Let me drive you home."</p><p>"I- no." Theon bit his lip and put a hand on the door, but locks suddenly went up. "No t-thank you. I don't want to uh. Inconvinience you."</p><p>"No, no. I insist." Ramsay said, without any means to argue.</p><p>"Right. Well, I mean. I am sure you're busy and I live very close-."<br/>"I have all your information, Theon." Ramsay slapped his hand away from the car door, his voice stilled. "You don't live very close. I'll give you a ride."</p><p>Theon stared at the man in terror and then nodded, saliva in his throat thick and crude. He couldn't push it down.</p><p>"Tha-thank you."</p><p>"It's adorable. What a nice guy you are. I assume it's because you don't want to take advantage of my time..." Ramsay dragged out, "and not because you don't want to enjoy my company. Isn't that right?"</p><p>The question was so fake and leading that Theon could only shake his head. "Yes, Sir." he hissed.</p><p>The ride there was slow and silent. Ramsay hummed some tune, and Theon intently stared through the window, counting streets and hoping Ramsay was actually driving him home and not into the woods to rape and kill him and hush the entire case over his police connections.</p><p>But no, Ramsay pulled in front of his building.</p><p>"There you go, sweetheart." he stopped the car and let the locks down. "I imagine you'll be kind enough to invite me in." he slowly leaned over to Theon's neck and placed a wet kiss on it, which made Greyjoy shudder.<br/>Theon just gave him a terrified look and opened the door, jumping out without a breath to waste. He stumbled backwards a few feet, his heart racing.</p><p>But Ramsay didn't move.</p><p>"No?" he asked, his voice disappointed and fake. "That's okay." he said peacefully. "You won't invite me in on our second date. I respect it. You aren't a slut."</p><p>Theon didn't grace him a response - less out of arrogance and more out of deep dread which made words stick in his throat - and, as fast as he could, he turned on his heel and ran up in the building.</p><p>***<br/>It took Ramsay two days to get back with the offense.</p><p>Loud banging on the door woke Theon up from fitful sleep, pillow and hair strands sticking to his face. His eyes went wide and wet as he tried to connect the reality with his foggy vision.</p><p>"Open up! Police!" loud voice shouted and Theon tensed. He jumped out and without wasting time to put on anything, leapt to the door in shock and pulled the knob. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.</p><p>Of course. It was Him.<br/>And not only him.<br/>Ramsay and the pack of men back from the station stood there. Three of the ugly officers pushed past Theon inside, their steps rushed and hurried. Batons swinging from their belts.<br/>Greyjoy looked at them in shock, still holding on the knob. One of them - Damon, if he remembered correctly, grabbed the sofa and flipped it upside down, another one with black hair swept all the dirty dishes from the table to the floor- third one threw the chair on the floor with a loud noise.</p><p>"Search it up well, boys!" Ramsay shouted from the doorstep, opting not to enter.<br/>"I- you can't!" Theon screamed, not letting go of the door. "You- don't! no! Don't touch that!" horror in his voice got more obvious when Skinner grabbed that chair and lifted it up in the air, ready to smash Theon's laptop.<br/>"Search warrant, baby." Ramsay lifted a paper up in the air and handed it over to him. He strode in like a general. "Leave that alone." he pointed at Skinner, "I'll be taking the laptop. Evidence, you know."</p><p>"I- please. Stop that! Stop!" Theon finally let go and ran to Damon, trying to wrestle Alannys' vase from his hands. "Don't-." he said in desperation.</p><p>"Ramsay. Please!" he finally turned to Bolton who flipped Theon's photos in his fingers.<br/>It was apparently enough for the man to issue the command.<br/>"Alright, boys. That's enough."</p><p>Theon sighed in relief as men dropped the objects, not bothering to put them back in the place. Skinner also ripped off the curtain as one last hoorah.</p><p>"What's the report?" Ramsay asked in uninterested voice.<br/>"All clean, boss." Damon nodded.<br/>"Good. I am sure I can finish the job myself." Ramsay shot Theon a look. "Or would you rather have the crowd over?"</p><p>"N-no." Theon swallowed and averted his eyes.<br/>His apartment looked like it had just suffered an earthquake of worldly dimensions, or an infestation of wild animals.<br/>Table was flipped over, sofa cover ripped, all cutlery from the cupboards broken and on the floor. He hurried to check his mom's vase sighing in relief as it turned out to be whole.</p><p>The men didn't seem too happy about not being able to finish their search - but they still obeyed under Ramsay's stare.</p><p>"Well. Go get that long weekend."<br/>"Hey, boss," Skinner interrupted, pointing at the shelf, "can we at least take that Jack Daniels up there? For the trip."</p><p>Ramsay shrugged. "Sure. It's deserved."<br/>The rat man grabbed the bottle greedily and ran out with the rest.</p><p>They were left alone.</p><p>Theon felt defeated, his entire world crumbled to pices. Or. Well, not the world. But the apartment certainly.<br/>"So." Ramsay cleared his throat and strode to the kitchen table which still somehow stood up, "won't you offer me coffee?"<br/>He flipped the chair up, dusted it off a bit, and plopped on it with grace of a king. Like he owned everything in that flat... Theon included.</p><p>"C-coffee. I-... my... everything is..." Theon gestured at the mess on the floor. "My coffee pot is..."<br/>"I can wait."</p><p>Theon bent over and he didn't see it but - he knew the man gave his ass a hungry look. So he straightened himself out as fast as he could.<br/>He never learnt to cook good coffee - not like his mother, at least, and Starks weren't fans - so he kept the cezve there just for her visits. He tried to remember the motions. It wasn't that complicated, was it? Put the water to boil, add coffee and mix...</p><p>He did it like in trance while Ramsay silently sat, playing with whatever he grabbed on the table.</p><p>It took him a bit to find a cup that was whole. Everything was broken.<br/>"There." he muttered, serving the boiling - well, more of brown water, less of coffee - to the officer. He dutifully stood by and watched him take a sip.</p><p>"This is disgusting." Ramsay smiled. Theon gave him a bitter look.<br/>"Everything is- in mess." he said, hoarsely.<br/>"What a pity. You should learn to make better coffee." Ramsay said in disappointment and leaned over, pouring the rest over Theon's feet.<br/>The boiling liquid made Theon scream and jump back.</p><p>"What the-!"<br/>"Well, I had to do something with it. Does it hurt?"</p><p>Not only did it hurt - it stung. It stung so much Theon gave it a horrified look: the flesh was changing from yellowish to scarily red, blue veins protruding from the heat. He was going to faint.<br/>He stumbled back, but he couldn't lean on it, he chose to stay on one leg, but pain worsened.<br/>He limped to the fridge to his best ability, hissing the entire time.</p><p>"Get me a beer while you're there." Ramsay casually commented and leaned back in the chair even more.</p><p>Theon's breath was heaved but he managed to grab a bottle - for a second thinking to break it against Ramsay's head - but then the heat on his foot intensified and he screamed.<br/>He limped back with the bottle and a bag of frozen peas in another hand.</p><p>"Ouch. That looks really bad." Ramsay gritted his teeth and there was such pleasure in his voice. Sick. He was fascinated as he stared at little bubbles appear on the skin. Even Theon's bones could be faintly seen through the thinned out flesh. </p><p>"You shouldn't stand on that. Come here." he put his hands around smaller man's waist and pulled him down. Theon could've done nothing but let go like a molding putty, a sob breaking from his chest. What was there to do? </p><p>Ramsay's hand greedily travelled to the hem of his pants and reached inside, grabbing at the flesh. He hummed and leaned over - once again with the fucking sniffing - and buried his nose in Theon's collarbones. He lead his mouth up, to the jaw, licking a long stripe over the neck.<br/>Theon shivered as he was lowered in Ramsay's lap even more. He felt it, something hard pressing against his own cock.</p><p>"I prepared you well last time. This is it, right? Third base." Ramsay sighed in content and kissed him, hands still travelling down Theon's thighs, squeezing where they could - hard enough to leave bruises. "Tell me - do you feel the sensation of that baton up your ass? Like, the phantom one."</p><p>Theon choked on his tears. He couldn't lie. It was too shameful.<br/>So he simply nodded, steadying himself on Ramsay's shoulders. He sobbed even harder, leaning down, all the way down to his abusor's neck and he pressed his forehead there, his entire body shaking.<br/>He still felt it, from nights and nights ago.<br/>Big, intrusive thick thing stretching him inside out.</p><p>"Oh. You do." Ramsay seemed pleased as he sucked on his fingers and reaching down to Theon's hole. The intrusion was slow but uncomfortable and Greyjoy sobbed even harder.</p><p>"Please. Please, don't." he whispered.<br/>To his surprise, instead of a calm word like before, Ramsay pulled him up for his hair and harshly slapped him.</p><p>"Stop with that word. I hate it so much." he said in serious tone. "Be good or I'll make you to be. Got it?" he grabbed at Theon's foot and squeezed, a harsh yelp escaping boy's chest.</p><p>"Okay- okay, okay-okay." sobs intensified.</p><p>"Alright. Every beginning is hard. So, what are you going to do now?"<br/>Theon's vision was so foggy from tears as he stared at man's chest.</p><p>"I'm- I'll apologize." he swallowed. "I'm sorry. Sorry. Sir."</p><p>Ramsay clicked his tongue and pushed another finger in. This one hurt so much more as the saliva had dried quickly, but it's not like Bolton particularly cared about that. <br/>Fingers started working themselves, exploring the flesh and its stretch and Theon choked from discomfort. He felt his own cock traitorously twitch.<br/>So did Ramsay, and the man immediately rubbed himself against Theon's growing boner, giving an obscene moan. Like a perverted animal. His breathing sped up.</p><p>"You like it, you sluuut. You just wanted attention. It's okay, I get it - that's how flirting works." Ramsay undid his zipper and pulled his erect cock out. A red thing, dripping.<br/>Theon has never seen another man's penis in... such context and he hoped he would never have to either. It looked so weird; his own one was one thing, but-. <i>Another</i>man's...<br/>His pants got pulled down and he was pulled closer by his waist, all above Ramsay's cock. Tears formed once again in his eyes, like river falls threatening to spill all the way down.</p><p>"Please, no-." he whispered once again, which immediately earned him a slap.<br/>"Don't be annoying. You survived the police baton. That's so much wider."</p><p>Did he really not understand what the actual problem was?</p><p>Ramsay put him down in one swift move and Theon felt like he had just been stuck on a terrible spike, like some medieval torture device. It hurt, he couldn't adjust, and Ramsay surged in and bit his neck with enough force to rip the flesh out. Theon would've screamed but when Ramsay let go, there was immediately another hungry wet lick and another bite, and then his hips were grabbed up, and forced down.</p><p>Theon was a <i>man</i>.<br/>He should be able to fight. To fight. Back. To take that beer and slam it against Ramsay's head.<br/>But sheer dread took over him.<br/>Even worse, along with the dread, something stirred in his belly, and he sobbed, this time from desperate shame. Was he really going to get turned on now?</p><p>Ramsay grabbed his throat and squeezed, starting to rut into him mercilessly, like a wild animal.</p><p>And next second, Theon was thrown on the floor, his back hitting the wooden tiles and pushing breath out of his lungs.<br/>Bolton hungrily lept on him like a cat and spread his legs with force, before inserting himself inside once again.</p><p>Theon whined in pain, his face becoming an ugly crying mess at the violation. He laid in middle of messed up apartment, a huge man was on top of him, carelessly fucking him, and his life was hell, and he just- wanted it- to stop.</p><p>And then, suddenly, the man above him tensed, his mouth going slightly agape and-<br/>Theon now saw what he looked like to all the girls beneath him.<br/>Eyes in tense ecstasy, as he finished into him.</p><p>Bolton took a few second to still his breath and pull out. He sniffed and wiped his nose, his shoulders spreading as he stared at his prey. Greyjoy boy was sprawled out on the ground, cum leaking from him.<br/>On both ends.</p><p>"Oh. Look. I think it likes me." Ramsay got up and zipped his pants, grinning at Theon's erection. Theon wanted to die.<br/>Ramsay's nice shoe came close to it, and then he stepped down on it. Theon's back tensed and arched in pain as he tried to pull away but Ramsay firmly kept his foot on it, pressing even more down on the balls.</p><p>"Don't- stop-! It hurts, it-." Theon sat up, still trying to move - but all the fight so far has been futile, so what's the point? - but no.<br/>Ramsay smirked, gave a much stronger stomp, and then pulled his foot away.</p><p>Casually, he slipped hands in his pockets and whistled.</p><p>"Well, that was really good." he commented. "I mean, it's official now, isn't it? I could take you to dinner sometime soon."<br/>He gave a mean look to Theon's cock and grinned, stepping away.<br/>"Well. I am sure you are going to handle that yourself." he grabbed his jacket and strode towards the door, leaving the abused boy on the floor. He gave a final look to the messy apartment.</p><p>"And clean that up."<br/>Door shut behind him with a loud thump, the board almost falling out the frame.</p><p>Theon stared behind, his crib looking even worse than they had left it. He brought the look between his legs. The floor was messed up, together with his thighs, covered in sticky white fluid which made him gag.<br/>But still, his hard on was up in the air and he looked at it with eyes full of tears.</p><p>He laid back, wrapped his hands around it, and with an exparated sigh starting sliding his hand up and down.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Cattle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>saigoat said to p-totel:<br/>🖤 if you're taking drabble requests may I suggest Ramsay using a tazer/cattle prod to teach reek a lesson<br/>---<br/>It's set sometime in 1950es. enjoy! 💙</p>
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    <p>Ramsay whistled joyfully as he leaned on the wooden fence.<br/>"I love farms." he said, his head resting on his hand as he watched the fields with a romantic look of a poet. "I grew up on this one. With the mill and all. Do you like farms, Reek?"</p><p>Reek said nothing as he miserably stared at the view. It hasn't been long since he'd become Reek; since he'd given up fighting and finally broke. Quiet desponency bit his heart. He just sighed and nodded. "Indeed, sir."</p><p>His master wore a light shirt, nice, clean, ironed - while Reek was given something... resembling a thing that perhaps once was an oversized mop.</p><p>"I love animals." Ramsay wishfully sighed, his eyes half lidded. "But you know that already."</p><p>Reek indeed knew. Ramsay liked animals more than people. His girls might had been starved from time to time before hunts, but they were in better shape than any of <i>people</i> that found themselves in master's reach.</p><p>Reek was somewhere between those two categories.</p><p>"Animals are easier." The master trailed off, speaking just for the sake of speaking as he often did, Reek left to nod and repeat 'yes indeed' as necessary. "You can train them. When they're disobedient, you punish them, and they learn."</p><p>Reek felt like this was aimed at him specifically.</p><p>The dusk was settling over the fields in wonderful blue and purple colors, stained with pink at moments. Pink used to be a lovely color Sansa wore, but ever since... Ramsay came into the picture, Theon started associating it with awful look of skin and flesh. It almost made him gag.</p><p>"Well. Off you go." Ramsay nodded and showed at the stable. "I'm sure you'll warm yourself with some cows and donkeys. You smell gross enough." he laughed and patted Reek, sending him over, stumbling. The poor man almost landed in the dirt with his face, but he managed to steady himself on what was left of his toes.</p><p>Reek tip-toed forward, the shoes sinking in the mud. Thick soil leaked in through cracks on their soles.</p><p>Master yawned, stretched and headed towards the mill.<br/>***</p><p>Reek settled himself on a pile of hay. A few cows slept around, snoring and sometimes twitching in the sleep. Two horses peacefully stood, their eyes peacefully closed. They will have to get up tomorrow to pull some plugs.<br/>A guarding dog slept at the door. Not one of Master's girls but a dog from his youth which he apparently had a warm place in heart for. And dog for him. Considering how intense and excited their reunion was.</p><p>Reek sighed and huddled in on himself. What did he do to deserve all that? <br/>To deserve <i>Ramsay</i>?</p><p>He rolled onto his side.<br/>The dog's ears were up, listening even in sleep. But Reek was small. Smaller than the animals the big shepherd kept eyes on.<br/>Maybe he could sneak by. Maybe he could run.</p><p>Where? There were only wheat fields all around... but... if he could get to another one, maybe look for a shelter... maybe wash himself in a pond... just get to another city...</p><p>He looked at the horses, thinking for a second to steal one, but he didn't want to make any noise. His master had better hearing than the damned dog.</p><p>Well, it's now or never.</p><p>Reek got up and slowly slid himself off the hay, as quietly as he could. The soft stack muffled his footsteps and he shuffled forward, his step slow and insecure. But it was only a few meters, right?</p><p>The only troublesome bit was passing the dog.</p><p>Reek softened his steps and rose on his toes, moving as slowly and carefully as he could. The soil was soft, working to his advantage.<br/>Just as he was about to step over the doorstep, the dog's ears twitched.</p><p>Reek thought his heart dropped in the heels of his feet.</p><p>But then, the animal returned to its peaceful snore.</p><p>Reek sighed in relief and sneaked out.<br/>The night was starry and warm, calm and color of deep, deep blue, almost mixing with black. Perfect for escape. Moonshine will lead the way.</p><p>He stepped forward, still trying to keep slow and silent, but his heart was starting to beat faster and panic rose in his chest. He was doing it. He was really doing it. He was escaping.<br/>His breath sped up and within a minute, he jumped over the fence and started running as fast as his legs carried him.<br/>***</p><p>Reek didn't know how long he ran - it might've been an hour and half, perhaps two. He was exhausted. His weak physique was ready to roll over.<br/>He stopped and leaned on his knees. Looking back, he couldn't see Ramsay's mill or the shed anymore.</p><p>There was no mill.<br/>But there was a figure moving through the wheat.<br/>Not moving.<br/>Galloping.<br/>A centaur.<br/>Or, better said - a tall man on a horse, the reins whipping the poor animal to run forward as fast as it could.</p><p>Reek almost screamed and gave into escape. It was hopeless, of course, his running pace laughable even though it was enchanced by pure fear for his life, and then he heard mad laughter behind.</p><p>He looked back, but the figure wasn't there anymore.</p><p>Next moment, his head hit a strong, muscled body, and he fell down.<br/>When he looked up with his breath fast and working, he saw his master on a horse with a vicious grin.</p><p>"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."</p><p>Reek swallowed thick lump in his throat and shuffled back on his arms.<br/>"No, please-." was the only word which came out of his mouth.</p><p>"A disobedient, disloyal little sheep." Ramsay jumped off the horse and whistled. Reek turned his head around and there he saw the keeper of the shed. Rugged shepherd intently stared at him, his ears high up.</p><p>"I thought we were past this." Ramsay came closer to him, as Reek tried to get up. But before he could, a thick boot hit his face and he fell right back down. He felt a tooth came loose, and something snapped in his jaw. He gasped for air, like a fish on ground.</p><p>"Come on. Do you think I simply forgot to lock you in?" The master started walking in circles. "Reek. I am not a stupid man."</p><p>And Reek realized in that moment what stupid idea this escape was. Futile. Dumb. Reek. Ryhmes with weak. The ryhme existed with a reason.<br/>"But you are a dim creature, that much is obvious." Bastard sighed and leaned on the horse. "Very much like those cows we have. Calling you a dog would be a compliment of century. You are not even close to those beasts, good and loyal animals."</p><p>"Please. I-" Reek tried to sit up, his back arching at uncomfortable angle.</p><p>"So, we'll have to readjust your training. I've been... overestimating you." Ramsay sighed and then, out of the saddle bag - he pulled out a bat unlike any Reek had ever seen.<br/>A long thing with - two poking metal endings.</p><p>"This is a new lovely invention, don't you think? It's used to get sheeps and cows back in the shed where they belong... if they won't go willingly."<br/>Master pressed something and the thing buzzed, a spark of electricity flickered between the prods.</p><p>Reek shuddered and choked and then words poured out of him:<br/>"No- no, please, please-. I'll go- I'll go I'm-."</p><p>Ramsay gave a sadistic grin, leaned down, and pressed the prod in Theon's chest.<br/>Theon screamed.</p><p>It hurt, it stung, it was like a lighting struck him. His body shivered, and then Ramsay pulled away, and Theon didn't even have moment to recompose himself before another buzz was pressed in.</p><p>When the wave passed, he was left on the muddy ground, desperately trying to breathe in and out, eyes wide in terror.</p><p>"You've gotten quite far away, haven't you?" Ramsay looked around, his voice relaxed. "Get the fuck up. We are walking home. To show you where your place is."<br/>He didn't wait for thin man to get up, he simply grabbed him to his feet with a strong pull and Reek whined like an animal which knew it has gotten into a trouble.</p><p>Ramsay spun him around and pushed him forward.</p><p>It was one of the most miserable experiences in Reek's life, and that said something. The moon shined full and luminiscent, white and etheral - and the quiet night was broken in by weak yelps. He walked in front of the Master, and whenever Reek would stumble, Master would push the damned cattle prod into his back, sending a shock between his shoulders. And Reek would sob and trip and go on.</p><p>And they walked like that all the way back to the stables.</p><p>"There we are." Ramsay at last commented as Reek swayed on his weak legs, ready to drop on the floor any moment. The dog next to Ramsay's legs was a well behaved old cur, not having given a bark the entire time. And now he stared Reek down like a silent, strict keeper.<br/>His Master showed him that Theon was just another animal to take care of - just like all the rest of the livestock.</p><p>Reek willfully entered the stables, his head hung low in shame and Ramsay grabbed the big doors.</p><p>"Have a good sleep, Reek. And think about what you've done. Because you know what else happens to livestock, right?"</p><p>Theon looked to Ramsay's right side where a big marking poker stood, terrifying tool leaned on the wooden walls. He gulped and looked back at the man, giving a shaky and scared nod.</p><p>"Good. Don't make me do it." Ramsay pulled the big door together. Theon heard a heavy plank fall on it outside. He was locked in.</p><p>The shepherd dog gave him a warning look and laid down, not moving his stare away.<br/>And so he stared until Theon climbed back to the stack of hay and huddled in it, covering himself with dry grass.</p><p>It was only when the dog made sure his new fowl won't move that it fell asleep.</p><p>Reek simply sobbed and closed his eyes, trying to do the same.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ramsay's knife is the same as lover's kiss.</p>
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    <p>Theon Greyjoy's head heavily slumped as he hung from the saltire.<br/>He wasn't sure how long it's been - days, or weeks, or maybe just minutes? Time seemed to blend - seconds, hours, it became all the same. It blended like the shades of dark brown, grey, and ugly black of the dungeon blended into each other. Oh and sometimes, the stupor of time was interrupted by an (un)expected visit, and the ugly mash of colors of some orange and red ignition.</p><p>Theon rose his head when the footsteps closened in. His breath was ragged from lack of water - tongue eternally dry, like those Dornish lands, raspy and sandy. It seemed even lifting his neck took more and more effort each time.</p><p>He didn't even need to guess who it was from the jolly step, accompanied by a whistle of some song. Er er and maiden fare.</p><p>"Good morning..." the man hummed and positioned himself in front of the saltire. His posture was sure and relaxed, hands tucked into the pockets of the tunic. He slowly cocked his head to the side. "Good morning...?"</p><p>"Lord Greyjoy." Theon coughed and spat at the ground.<br/>The man laughed and pulled out a piece of apple. Theon's eyes immediately brightened and he followed the fruit, its skin shining in the light of a torch.</p><p>"Wrong answer. But we'll get there yet. Don't worry." the man bit into it. Theon watched his teeth - unusually sharp and kind of weird, like a mutation - pierce the red skin. He winced on the fruit's behalf.</p><p>"Do you know how I train my dogs?" Ramsay grabbed a chair and dragged it across the room with an aggravating noise, "It's all about treats and punishments. You see, when you teach a dog his name, you have to be very patient. And keep the balance between punishments," he threw the apple up, "and the treats." it fell back in his hand.</p><p>Theon let his head fall down in frustration again. How long could that man talk anyway? Everything always seemed to have an incredibly long beginning, and then a side-story, and then started the puzzles, and then maybe Ramsay got to the point, and then, hours later, Theon would be rewarded with a bite of that apple... if even.</p><p>Ramsay seemed to contine talking and Theon jolted his head up. No. If he stops fighting his games, he will lose. But it was getting harder and harder to <i>keep up</i>...</p><p>"Are you tired?" Ramsay clicked his tongue and stopped eating, the apple in his hand still - more or less whole.</p><p>Theon shook his head in defiance. He was an Ironborn. He was not "tired". He could keep up.</p><p>"You don't have to do that, you know. You don't have to fight so hard. How long do you think you'll last anyway?" Ramsay shrugged and took out another huge bite. The way he chewed wasn't even the way of a common <i>soldier</i>. It was a gross mix of a horse and a farm-born peasant.<br/>And such man wanted <i>Theon Greyjoy</i> to bow to him?</p><p>The Bastard jumped up and within seconds he was from Theon's face.<br/>Maybe that proximity was the thing the captured prince hated the <i>most</i>. A dirty bastard like that - even lower than Jon - acted like they were equals.<br/>No, not equals. Like Theon was his subordinate.</p><p>Ramsay pressed an apple to Theon's dry lips and - he couldn't lie. The smell and taste made him shudder, like it was a divine cunt, and not a-.</p><p>"Nobody is coming to get you. Unless it's your head they want." Ramsay whispered and pushed the apple further. The skin was so wet and glossy-. No!<br/><i>No, no, no,</i> Theon thought feverishly, <i>if I give in now-</i>.</p><p>"Don't you want to just let go? Come on. It's just me and you here. You don't have to be brave." Bastard whispered and put one hand in Theon's hair, gently stroking, like a loving pet. "Nobody is going to see it. Only you and me will know... and you can have this. I even have one more." he whispered, not unlocking their eyes.</p><p>Theon stared at him in an attempt to fight back but - his eyes kept flickering down - to the tasty and fresh and juicy-.<br/>He didn't even notice how his lip started trembling at the smell.</p><p>And then Ramsay took the apple away.</p><p>"Okay?" he tapped his cheek lightly to get his prisoner's attention again and this time, when Greyjoy rose his look, Ramsay's was so soft and-.<br/>He shook his head. It wasn't. It wasn't a soft look, and it wasn't a kind one, and it was just a lie, and a game, and whatever other tactic the bastard had in his arsenal.</p><p>"Why are you doing this?" Theon sobbed, but the hand didn't move from his hair, petting still steady. "Why?"</p><p>"We've been over this."</p><p>"Because it's fun." Theon croaked accusatory, "It's fun. It's a game to you. A game to you to hold a man on a saltire." he sobbed harder in anger.</p><p>Ramsay whistled and looked up at the ceiling. "Well, sure. But that's not the only reason."</p><p>"And what else is it? You don't need me anymore. I am of no value." Theon's nose filled with liquid snot which was starting to stream down his face along with messy tears. "Just kill me. Please." he whispered.</p><p>"Oh come on. I didn't save you just to kill you." Ramsay moved in and caressed his cheek softly. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have. But instead I saved you from those horrid men that wanted to take your head."</p><p>"Which men? Which men did <i>you save me</i> from?" Theon's voice trembled in ire and despair. Ramsay? Bastard of Dreadfort? Saved him from what? Who? Where? The only person he needed to be saved from was the very man standing in front of him.</p><p>"Well. Starks, of course." Ramsay cocked his head to the side.</p><p>Theon didn't even let a breath out.</p><p>"Why? You told me all about it. How your neck was always on the line, how Lord Stark never accepted you as a son - not the way he did his other children... How your father never wrote or asked for your health. Well, here I am." Ramsay slowly kissed him. "To give you all the attention you need."</p><p>Theon shuddered.<br/>And then he felt tip of a flaying knife crawl up his thigh -<br/>like a kiss of a lover.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Pissed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Well, this is just s01 snowjoy. had no idea where to else post this drabble. Enjoy ;p</p>
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    <p>Jon stood outside with an exparated look in his eyes. His soft face, the round boyish features were sullen, angry and sad at the injustice.</p><p>The King and Queen were in Winterfell and everyone was inside feasting, the songs echoed through the dark night, and the lights from the candles were as golden as the ale which flowed in rivers.</p><p>And with all that taken - Jon stood outside, the loud chatter grating his ears.</p><p>He groaned, rose his sword, and hit the training dummy again. There was nothing better to do. Bastards like him weren't allowed places like the one inside.<br/>But in the Watch, there will be a place even for him. Man's past gets erased like chalk on the board when he joins. He will finally be a man, not an unwanted keychain to Lady Catelyn's happy family.</p><p>At the thought of her, Jon swung his sword even harder, trying to demolish the dummy as brutally as possible. What the hell has he ever done to that woman?! Was it his fault he was born?!</p><p>With grunts, he continued slicing the air, when suddenly the wooden door near him creaked and opened. He squinted and stopped his sword.</p><p>The Greyjoy ward stumbled out, as frivolous as ever and almost tripped on the snow. The young man was obviously in good spirits, judging by his laughter which required no company. Jon scoffed. That narcissistic cunt enjoyed only himself and his through-the-roof ego; and whores.</p><p>Deciding to pay him no attention, Jon swung his sword again, and the dummy took another hit to the wooden body.</p><p>"Enjoying yourself, Snow?" Greyjoy cackled in sly delight and stumbled towards him. "It's so fun in there. You should join us."</p><p>Jon gave him a sour look and judged possibility of chopping that prick's head off. Night's watch will forgive him all his past sins. He could at least make that cleanse count for something.</p><p>"Oh." Greyjoy suddenly rose his hand in the air, like he remembered something, "You can't. Because you are a bastard." Theon grinned wide.<br/>Even through the man's half-lidded eyes, glossy from wine, Jon could see the sly mischief.</p><p>Just ignore him, Jon. Just ignore him. It's not worth it. Arguing with Theon is never worth it.</p><p>"And you are a hostage." Jon suddenly spat back. "No matter how they call you."</p><p>Greyjoy stopped in his tracks and by the light of the window, Jon could see his smirk falter and turn into a sour scowl. He hit the nerve.</p><p>It lasted only a second.<br/>Theon launched himself at the Snow who dropped the sword down in surprise, and pinned him against the wall, like a serpent of some kind.</p><p>"Do you know why I exited?" Greyjoy hissed, his breath smelling of sweet wine, "I exited so I could take a piss. Because there is wine inside. The finest wine. Because the Queen is there, and I can tell she has been looking at me. Scouting me out for some late night fun."</p><p>Jon was taken back by the sheer delusional words dropping from Greyjoy's lips. Was he for real?</p><p>"But maybe that's all you're good for, Snow. To be pissed at." Greyjoy grabbed his throat and squeezed. Jon gasped, scared for real this time, paralyzed by discomfort. Why couldn't that damned prick take his piss and leave?</p><p>"So let me show you," Greyjoy hastily used his free hand to undo his breeches, "What- what the cock I will- spear Cersei with tonight- looks like."</p><p>"Wait, wha-" Jon opened his mouth in shock and he felt something warm trickle down his pants. He tried to push the man away but no - Greyjoy pressed down with his entire body weight on him and locked him in the place, against the wall. In his horror, Jon choked as the other man's cock emptied against him.</p><p>Greyjoy's head got buried in the crook of Snow's shoulder, the breeches still down, the flaccid member dripping the last drops of what was kept in it.</p><p>And then Jon felt light snoring at his neck.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Dungeon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ramsay takes Theon to a BDSM dungeon. For a lesson.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So... where- where are we going?" Theon asked uncomfortably as Ramsay lead him through the full nightclub, all the way behind, to ordinary black door which looked like nothing special. Just a bathroom for the staff or something alike.</p><p>But when his boyfriend knocked on it three times, a big, broad man opened, gave him a squinty look: and let them through.</p><p>They descended down the stairs.</p><p>"Think of it as visiting an amusement park." Ramsay smiled like a little boy and casually hopped down the stairs. "But sexy."</p><p>"...A BDSM dungeon?" Theon frowned. "But- why-?"<br/>What was the point? They didn't need some dirty, dark club. Especially where <b>potential witnesses</b> mingled. </p><p>Ramsay had everything he needed <i>in his own basement</i>. </p><p>His 'boyfriend' already had him on the cross, below the cross, on a spiky chair, collared, whipped, flayed, waterboarded and everything else his sick mind came up with. He had him paddled until his skin burnt and he cried. He cut him so deep Theon thought he will bleed out to death if he doesn't call ER to patch him up. There was nothing 'BDSM' about the entire thing. It was just...</p><p>...he didn't have proper words to describe the atrocity in his mind.<br/>Abuse? No, it was way too worse than that.<br/>Violation? Closer. But not quite there.<br/>Desecration?</p><p>Desecration of another body, another mind, another person. If bodies really are temples, Theon's has been brought to ruins and crushed to dust. No over-eager archaelogy student will ever bother to try and put the pieces together.</p><p>What was the point?</p><p>"Tell me, dear," Ramsay cooed, "what are proper relationships built upon?"</p><p>Theon opened his mouth but Ramsay didn't wait.<br/>"Trust." he answered in his stead.</p><p>Theon sort of nodded. Except that 'trust' in any self-help book had a very different definition that Ramsay's interpretation of the word.</p><p>"And as you trust me," he continued, "so I must trust you. Isn't that fair? I trust you with many things. I trust you to be good, to listen, to not do anything behind my back."</p><p>These words were a silent warning but Theon already knew all of it. The first thought was a terrified voice: <i>what did I do wrong this time?</i></p><p>"However, we must... build our relationship even stronger." Ramsay said as he counted out dollar bills at the entrance - handing them over to some hot chick in a latex cat uniform, "Like a... like a fort. Stone by stone. High up in the sky."</p><p>Theon nervously swallowed and looked at the catgirl, rushing after Ramsay as quickly as he could. He swore she <i>knew</i> he was gelded. She didn't have to see it. She knew.</p><p>"Because this, what we have - <i>is</i> a fort to me." Ramsay pushed open one door. A couple - two girls; one on knees and the other one - stepping on her with a high heel -  gave them a weird look. Bolton rose his hand in apology and pulled the door back. <i>Then</i> he rechecked their room number and gave a sigh. "Ah. 33."</p><p>As they pushed on, Ramsay continued: "A fort, dear. Our relationship is a safe, strong hold where I come after a long day, a place of union and trust. Hearth where I rest my tired soul and body."<br/>As romantic as it sounded, it was mostly rape and Theon's head being slammed on the table. He winced. Where was Ramsay going with this?</p><p>"And as such, I need you to feel the same about it."</p><p>These were easy words to say for the person who <i>inflicted</i> pain. Not the one who endured it. Theon's days were filled with terror and fear at his 'boyfriend' coming home in the evening with more ways to abuse him, more bruises to leave on his body, more broken bones to never heal properly.</p><p>And, in the same amount, it was also filled with yearning.<br/>Yearning and fear that Ramsay <i>wouldn't</i> come.</p><p>People pushed past them in the hall and Ramsay finally stopped in front the door and pushed them open.<br/>The gap opened to show a room filled with classic things from pornhub. Bed. Leather. Cage. Cross. Much more comfortable looking than Ramsay's old wooden thing. But it's not like Ramsay ever cared about comfort.</p><p>Ramsay strode in like a general while Theon timidly followed. He closed the door, insecurely, scared someone will open them like they did few seconds earlier. He turned the lock; oh, one which can be opened from outside too. Well, he figured if Ramsay got him screaming like a banshee here, someone would actually come and save him.<br/>In their basement, <i>nobody</i> could ever hear him.</p><p>"So, of course, I need you to trust me as well." Ramsay undid his shirt and threw it on the bed. "You need to step in my shoes, and I in yours. It's for better understanding between us."</p><p>Theon swallowed. What was- he aiming at?<br/>Ramsay cocked his head at the cross.</p><p>Oh. Of course. Theon rushed forward.</p><p>"A-a." Ramsay's hand immediately flew up in the air. "You will tie me there."</p><p>It was like the world stopped, and then, slowly started turning in the opposite direction. Somewhere far behind, rock'n'roll played and giggles were heard, but none of them were touching Theon.</p><p>"...What?" he asked, stunned.<br/>"You heard me. Go on." Ramsay finally threw his shirt on the bed and approached the cross. "Tie me there."</p><p>"I-."</p><p>"It's a command." Bolton whipped him with his cold, blue eyes.</p><p>Theon bit his lip and rushed forward to help his boyfriend to the cross. The straps were much kinder than the ones on Ramsay's old thing; where old ropes chaffed and skinned Theon's wrists.<br/>He tried not to make them too tight. How silly. He was here, so worried and preoccupied with <i>comfort</i> of the man who broke his hand three months ago because he got 'carried away'.<br/>Chills were starting to creep into his spine. This was wrong. He tied the straps and took a step back.</p><p>Ramsay was positioned on the cross, legs and arm spread, powerless.<br/><i>No, never powerless. He is in command here, </i> Theon's mind franatically thought.</p><p>He stared at his Master for two seconds...<br/>and then sobbed and rushed forward to untie him.</p><p>"Don't you dare." Ramsay hissed. "If you dare to untie me now, I'll give you twenty lashes. And not with this fancy shit here."</p><p>Theon froze.</p><p>"Go to my jacket," Master instructed, "And get out the box from it."</p><p>Theon rushed to obey. He dug a bit around it, but then he found it: a pretty decently sized box with fancy engraving. Family heirloom of some kind. It was actually impressive how Ramsay managed to stuff it in his coat. The bastard had cut the inside pockets and graced himself with the entire lining to use as a hoarding bag.</p><p>"Open it."</p><p>So Theon did.<br/>The second the belongings of the box flashed, he squeaked like a mouse and immediately closed it.</p><p>"Open it! Hold it open." Ramsay groaned from the cross.</p><p>"No- no, please, please-." Theon whimpered, staring at the box. "Twe-twenty lashes, was it? I'll take them." he sobbed. "Please, don't make me-."</p><p>"I said. What. I. Said." each uttered word was like cobra's hiss. "Open. It."</p><p>With tears streaming down his eyes, Theon opened the case.<br/>A set of bright, shiny knives waited for him in it.</p><p>"Pick out one." Ramsay sighed and tried to get more comfortable in his unfortunate position. "As I said, we need to trust each other. You need to know how it feels to be <i>me</i>."</p><p>So that was it.<br/>The dungeon.<br/>The potential witnesses.</p><p>Ramsay wasn't stupid. If he asked Theon to do this to him in his own basement, far away from others... who... knows if he would just leave him there? Or gathered courage and actually killed his Master? Theon shuddered at the thought. He would never! An old ryhme popped up in his head: <i>Reek, Reek... ryhmes with freak.</i></p><p>"Now." a growl made him shudder and he grabbed the one which looked the... least threatening. A silver, engraved blade, medium sized. Well sharped. Dull knives were the worst ones, he knew from experience. Better for it to be sharp. And for all of this to be done soon.<br/>He wanted to cower, to hide beneath the big bed in the middle of the room; to lick Ramsay's feet and ask him not to make him do this.</p><p>Just holding the tool made him shiver.</p><p>He approached the cross like in trance, his feet moving out of their own accord.</p><p>"Good." Ramsay exhaled. "What do you want to do to me with that knife?"</p><p>"N-nothing." Theon sobbed out an answer. "I- nothing."</p><p>"Really? I do it to you all the time. Nothing?"</p><p>"Nothing." Theon whimpered, hanging his head down, his face deforming in an ugly cry. "Please. D-don't."</p><p>"Maybe if you step forward," Ramsay scouted him out with icy eyes, "and try it, you will find your taste for it. Come here. Try to cut my chest. Do you remember how I cut off your nipple?"</p><p>All Theon did was sob even louder in response. He stumbled forward like a child waiting for punishment, the knife tightly gripped in his hand. He was scared of that silver thing. It felt like it might jump out of its own accord and hurt... hurt Ramsay.</p><p>Even strapped to the cross, it was clear who was in control.</p><p>It was apparent Ramsay got tired of waiting because he surged forward, his teeth on display - audiably gritting against each other.<br/>"Cut me! Cut me <i>now</i>! Do it!" he hollered and Reek froze in his tracks.</p><p>His hand shook like a leaf in the wind when he rose it. Sounds started mixing. He was openly crying now, Ramsay was still shouting, the trashy music played in the background. The knife's journey to Ramsay's pale skin seemed to take ages. Theon held it gracelessly; like a butcher - and then there was even <i>more</i> noise from all the sides, <b>urging him</b> to do it-</p><p>when he brought the knife down, he barely cut the skin.</p><p>Ramsay shut up in bewilderment as Theon sobbed and finally opened his eyes to take a look at his work.<br/>There was a little, single spot of blood there.</p><p>Ramsay stared at him, mouth slightly open in shock. Was this real?</p><p>"Gods dammit, focus on it and-" he growled, but weak protests stopped him.</p><p>Reek dropped the knife and, shaken with sobs and painful shivers, approach Ramsay and hug him. Both him and the cross. He buried his head in his Master's broad chest as he cried.<br/>Ramsay felt snot smear on his skin.</p><p>He sighed and rolled his eyes. Well, the results were as he hoped for them to be. But it still felt too weak.</p><p>"Theon." he closed his eyes, "Do you know what was the point of this whole ordeal?"<br/>"Reek." Theon simply whimpered in response, his eyes shut in despair. "R-ryhmes with meek."<br/>"Very good. Stop crying. Do you know what the point of this was?"</p><p>Reek had no idea. It had something to do with something with something somewhere sometime, and in the end, it was so confusing.</p><p>"You see, you keep wanting to <i>take control</i>." Ramsay patiently said. "You want to drive yourself. You want to get a job. You say you want to be 'an accomplished member of society', now that I have given you... some autonomy. The truth is you will never be that crap."</p><p>Reek shook his head.</p><p>"We've been playing, pretending you're Theon... and now, when I want you to do it - <i>to show me how you can take control</i> - you can't even break my skin. If you're going to be a grown up boy, then both talk the talk and walk the walk."</p><p>Silence. More hysteric sobs.</p><p>"But you are nothing without me. A big pile of nothing that can't even take a <i>little</i> revenge. You are lost without a master, yet you want to parade around and claim 'independence'?"</p><p>Reek whimpered and pressed in tighter.</p><p>Ramsay rolled his eyes. It was obvious the converstation won't be continuing anytime soon.</p><p>"Reek... untie me." he sighed at last, "Let's switch the places. To where both of us belong."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Beer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Puppy Reek gets some beer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reek sniffled and curled up even more in his dog bed.<br/>It was an old dingy thing, torn and ruined, smelly. Ramsay didn't keep house pets; his girls kept to the kennels at his estate or, occasionally, shared the floor of the apartment with them. The bed was grabbed from some garbage deponium.</p><p>Still, Reek liked it. The stuffing had fallen out for a good measure, but it was still... soft. After that <i>wretched man Theon</i>'s entrapment in the basement and chaffing locks, after years of sleeping on the cold floor; often times <i>outside</i> in the cold, even an ugly second hand like this was a blessing upon Reek's back.</p><p>He fluttered his eyelashes. Master sat at the couch, one leg over the other, watching a football match on the TV. A beer can next to him. Two more, unopened.</p><p>Reek licked his lips. Maybe this would be a good chance to get a lick or two. He liked it; beer always made him nice and relaxed, dulled the never-ending ache in his body and made it heavy and comfortable.</p><p>Unsteadily, he got up on all fours and started crawling over.</p><p>His toes have been missing for a long time now, so standing up on two legs was easier said than done. His fingers have also been missing, nicely groomed into a pair of paws. Groomed by Ramsay's knives.<br/><i>"Well, you are a dog after all, Reek. Dogs don't need hands." his Master wickedly snorted and grabbed the tools. "They get along fine just by paws."</i></p><p>They had been cut off long time after he learnt his name so he didn't protest <i>too much</i>. He already had to crawl. He already had to listen. Fingers, one more or less, did it really matter at this point? It's not like it would affect him too much.</p><p>He slowly swayed to Ramsay who seemed to not have noticed him. Well, Reek decided. He will be having his attention, one way or another. He nudged his head against the Master's leg.</p><p>"Oh. Reek." Master swerved his look from the TV to his ragged pet. "What do you want?"</p><p>Reek nudged his foot again and leaned his head against Master's thigh. He gave a low whine and licked his lips. <i>Beer,</i> his pleading look said.</p><p>"My pet feeling lonely?" Ramsay's mouth spread in a vicious green as he tangled his rough fingers in Reek's thinned out locks and gave him a rough headpat. Reek nodded with another whine and moved left, between Master's legs, closer to the beer can. He <i>will </i>be having that.</p><p>He licked Master's hand, intently trying to get attention once again.</p><p>"You really are like a dog," Ramsay laughed lowly, his voice raspy. There was a note of pure bewilderment and enjoyment in it. He gave Reek another firm headtug, finally realizing what his pet wanted.</p><p>"This?" he rose the can, "You can have some. After you earn it."</p><p>It's not like Reek needed to be told <i>twice</i>. He propped himself with paws at the couch and reached over to Master's zipper. Biting the little metal bit was hard for his missing teeth, but he managed to grab it - bit by bit; some use of teeth, some of tongue, mostly lips...</p><p>Through a meticulous process he managed to somehow both unzip and unbutton (seriously, why do <i>both</i> things exist?) Ramsay's jeans - and even pull at the fabric of his boxers, freeing the now-hard cock. Red. Dripping.<br/>Not hiding the pleasure his Master obviously took in watching the ruins of another person in front of him.</p><p>But it's been such long time, and Reek didn't mourn that <i>Theon Greyjoy</i> anymore at all. There was time when he regretted it, yearned for him, but years have passed and Reek was, frankly - out of fucks to give.<br/>He had his Master. He had his routine. He was hit and kicked, but that's what Reek <i>was</i> for anyway. The settled-in life gave him some doggish cheekiness.</p><p>Ramsay didn't mind.<br/>It really did remind him of his dogs.</p><p>Reek's breath was laboured when he finished with the tiring process of fishing out his Master's dick. He surged in immediately. Shyness? What was that?<br/>He licked the long shaft, exerting himself over to grab it in his mouth. </p><p>Ramsay coldly brought back his attention to the game on the TV, relaxing into the couch. He sat there, legs spread, like a King, while his servant worked his way up and down, his breath heavy and hot. Gone were the days when Theon Greyjoy ran circles around the court and trained rowing. Now, even small things required an immense amount of energy.</p><p>"Oh fuck yeah." Ramsay breathed out, closed his eyes, and spent with a groan.</p><p>He sat there for a few seconds, simply breathing.</p><p>"Alright." he sighed at last. "Go get your dog bowl. We are playing so shit tonight, anyway." Ramsay yawned, unimpressed, and gave the TV a disappointed look. Like he cared.</p><p>Reek's face lit up in happiness and scurried off, on all fours, to get the bowl. With his mouth, of course. It took a bit of fiddling with it to set it comfortably between his broken teeth, but at last he managed.<br/>If he had a tail, he would be wagging it right now.</p><p>He brought the plastic bowl to Master's feet and sat on his butt, expectantly staring at him. Ramsay popped open another can and poured its contents in the dingy thing.</p><p>Reek immediately dipped his head in it once the liquid stopped coming out and started lapping it up. After first few sips, he closed his eyes and gave a satisfied sigh.<br/>He positioned himself again between master's legs and leaned his head on the strong thigh.</p><p>Life continued as usual.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Skeleton</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>whoop, a big, fat ED trigger warning in case you deal with it. basically, ramsay makes theon lose some weight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Theon, don't you think you're getting fat?"</p><p>Theon rose his head from his phone, half of eaten protein bar in his hand. Ramsay's question got him confused and he gave him an awkward, questioning look.</p><p>"I- no? I don't think so." he frowned.</p><p>Ramsay was sprawled on the couch, watching something uninteresting on TV. He pressed a button and changed the channel. He flipped through a few of them, his eyes half-lidded in boredom.</p><p>"Well, you look a bit thicker." He commented, squinting his eyes at the game of <i>curling</i> on the screen. Two guys were polishing the ice in front of a rolling disc in frenzy. Theon couldn't believe that was an actual sport and not a comedy sketch of a sort. It really looked like a parody, rather than a legit thing.</p><p>"It might be muscle. I mean, I don't go to gym for nothing, right?" he gave a chuckle and took another bite of the over-priced bar.</p><p>"Yeah... I don't think it is." Ramsay yawned, switching the channel to a commercial for cleaning windows. "I think you are getting pudgy. Sure looks so to me."</p><p>Theon bit his lip as he stared at his boyfriend. That wasn't true, right? He worked hard on his appearance. He could see the changes on his body; he <i>would've known</i> if he gained- weight. He didn't! He- it was muscle. Gym, three to four times per week, sometimes more if he felt an itch. Looking a bit thicker is perfectly normal.</p><p>"Well-"<br/>"I mean, it's my duty, as your boyfriend to let you know if you are letting yourself go. Maybe you should cut on..." Ramsay finally graced him with an icy look, "<i>That</i>."</p><p>Theon looked at half-eaten bar in his hand.<br/>"But-"<br/>"How much do you weigh anyway?"</p><p>Now his lip insecurely twitched. "I- I think about 180ish lbs. Why? It's normal weight for me! I go to the gym, okay?" his voice hitched a bit as he tried to defend himself.</p><p>Ramsay didn't reply, opting to return his gaze back to the TV.</p><p>Something tightened in Greyjoy's chest as he stared at Bolton, well aware of the sudden cold that washed over the room.<br/>He crumbled the rest of the bar and threw it in the trash.<br/>***</p><p>"So, how's your diet going?" Ramsay asked that night as he sat to have dinner. Meat, some kale (which he always skipped), beer on the side. "You don't seem to be making much progress."</p><p>Theon sat at his respective place and gave his boyfriend a wide-eyed look. "I- I dropped a few pounds, actually." he muttered as he put his share on the plate. "Is it not obvious?"<br/>He really thought it was. He looked leaner in the mirror, the scale didn't lie. Sure, it wasn't a <i>crazy</i> amount but...</p><p>"Really? I don't see it." Ramsay shrugged with disinterest and took a huge bite of meat. "But it's whatever, I guess. People come in all sizes and shapes."<br/>The last words were uttered with dismissive disgust.</p><p>Theon's lip quivered and he left his plate untouched.</p><p>Ramsay didn't comment.<br/>***</p><p>He did what he could. He cut the dinner out. He cut the snacking out. He cut his lunch in half, he doubled his gym time, he stopped having sugar in his coffee. He could finally see the weight loss in the mirror, his body getting leaner.</p><p>Once upon time, he would had been proud of it. He would had bought a few low-cut shirts and worn them with pride while smirking at girls and giving them cheeky winks.</p><p>But Ramsay was still saying <i>nothing</i>.</p><p>***<br/>Gym visits dropped from four times to two times a week, and then only at one. He would've gone more, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. He tried to go as long without eating as possible, until his body was wrecked with shivers and tremors, too tired to even attempt dragging itself to the treadmill at the club.</p><p>He slept in late.<br/>He didn't sleep at night.</p><p>His hair was starting to get messier and messier each day as the dark collars under his eyes grew.</p><p>He could now see the <i>real</i> loss.</p><p>Finally, Ramsay came home that evening and passed a hand over his collarbones while smirking. He felt the bones under his big fingers, pressed down hard, and Theon felt like he was <i>floating</i>.<br/>Partially because of the delusional enamorment, partially because he constantly felt dizzy now, due to never-ending fasts. His heart started beating faster as Ramsay dragged his hand down his chest, all the way to-</p><p>the ribs. Suddenly the hand stopped and Ramsay gave the flesh an intruding pinch.</p><p>In a second, the smirk turned to a scowl and the hand moved away.</p><p><i>Really?</i> Theon thought in desperation.<br/>***<br/>It seemed his body was shrinking by hours, not days. He only knew because of the mirror  - he spent more time in the bathroom than outside of it, checking his wrists, jawline, bones, ribs, hips. <i>Was it enough?</i> he would ask himself nervously, and every time it was: no, probably not.</p><p>"You are giving Walda a good run for her money." Ramsay once commented and Theon almost fainted in that exact spot.</p><p>He stopped going out. He didn't want anyone to see him anyway. The last time he went grocery shopping, a few people gave him worried looks - wondering if he even needed the food he was buying, since it seemed like he lived on air and Diet Coke.</p><p>At least Ramsay started touching him again.</p><p>Obsessively, it seemed. With dizzy happiness he rejoiced in his boyfriend's touches and squeezes, bites which seemed to bruise easier and never heal, his rutting which somehow became - more forceful.<br/>He couldn't remember if sex was like this before he lost half his body weight. Was Ramsay more violent now? Or was Theon too frail to fight back <i>at all</i>?</p><p>In any case, he was drunk on Bolton's hungry looks and wicked smiles.<br/>His grin seemed thirsty for more of Theon. More, more, more.</p><p>Or: less, less, less.</p><p>Sometimes, Theon felt like Ramsay has just been laughing at him the entire time, but he couldn't figure out <i>why</i>. His cackles seemed as if this has all been a joke, one which Theon wasn't let in on.</p><p>
  <i>"Well, come on. Like I care what he looks like. I just want to see how far can I take it." Ramsay shared a beer with boys one night in Skinner's basement, his laugh like a dog's growl. "Trust me, it's hilarious. You should see how desperate he is."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Wait, and you're not fucking him at all?" Skinner asked, opening another bottle with his crooked teeth.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Yeah. It's such a pity. I would most rather..." Ramsay curled his lips, "Eat him."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Well, that's why you have us." Damon yawned and laughed, pointing at the corner of the humid old room.<br/>A girl sat there, asleep, nicely tied up. Chlorofolm did her in long time ago and she was blissfully ignorant of the situation. She thrashed and screamed when Damon put the rag at her mouth, but now, bruised and exhausted, she sat there like a limp doll.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"To Damon. Provider of cunts." Ramsay laughed and cheerfully rose his bottle. The boys laughed and clinked their bottles in a cheer.<br/>"But no, seriously. I won't be able to withhold myself much longer." Ramsay said after he took a big gulp. "No pussy can replace him."</i>
</p><p>***<br/>Hot showers were the only thing keeping Theon from freezing to death. Everything always seemed to be cold now. Of course, they took hours: while he stared at his reflection, until he took it, and then some more staring.</p><p>"You should really stop with them." Ramsay said one day. "You are just wasting water, and it's not like you're going out anyway."</p><p>So Theon stopped.<br/>***<br/>Ramsay started calling him 'Reek'.</p><p>"S-stop it." Theon insecurely commented, his eyes wet with tears.<br/>"Why? It's just a pet name." Ramsay blew out a smoke of cigarette and hugged him tighter, his eyes cackling. "Because you don't shower."</p><p>"Well I would if-"</p><p>"Come on. You know I don't mean anything by it." Ramsay kissed his forehead. "My Reek."<br/>***</p><p>Reek had no idea how long this had gone on. As far as he was concerned, it could've been days or weeks, weeks or months. A year?<br/>No, definitely not a year. Perhaps a season.</p><p>He was pretty sure he looked like a freak now. His back was hunched; always trying to make himself smaller. His stomach was just a sunken in pit between two hipbones. Ribs could be counted.<br/>His beautiful, dark locks, had masterfully thinned out, most of it having fallen out. He was left with limp, colorless strings of hair.</p><p>But it was worth it.<br/>Ramsay was finally <i>touching him</i>.</p><p>Maybe more than ever.</p><p>He had been taken on the table, against the wall, on the floor, in the bathroom, in the bedroom, everywhere, fucked on each inch of the apartment they had. He stopped getting an erection long time ago, his body always too shaking and wrecked; but it didn't matter. The sex brought him no pleasure and it <b><i>hurt</i></b> - <i>Gods, it hurt</i> - but Ramsay was touching him.</p><p>The bridge gave in when, one night, after Ramsay spent in him and pulled out, Reek folded on the floor.</p><p>Everything around him spun, the entire world, like a fast and blurry ride. The ceiling came down, the floor came up. He hadn't eaten in - what, three or four days now?</p><p>Could he even remember?</p><p>He felt so sick and he steadied himself on his elbows and knees, when a coughing attack came on.<br/>His eyes went wide from nausea and he started coughing, choking on his breath and raspy tongue. Ramsay calmly watched him.</p><p>He watched as Reek coughed out spit mixed with blood.</p><p>The starvation had done it in.</p><p>The fit lasted for a few minutes as Ramsay stared at the pathetic sight with the same interest he expressed into a game of curling few months ago, his eyes half-lidded and bored. Perhaps the game had gone on enough.</p><p>"You know, Reek..." at last he said, when it was clear poor husk of the Greyjoy won't die on the floor, "Don't you think you are getting a bit too thin?"</p><p>Theon dropped on the floor, trying to catch his breath.</p><p>"You look like a skeleton." Ramsay gleefuly grinned.<br/>"Maybe you should put on some weight."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i like the idea of ramsay not caring how theon looks at all, rather just enjoying the control.</p><p>he probably made him gain weight back and go to gym after this. he just does it on a whim. ;P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Underground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ramsay and Theon hit a dingy, underground club.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Theon descended into the dim, grimy basement club, he couldn't contain both the discomfort and excitement he felt at it. He had surely gone out in his fair share of weird clubs, but this was something else.</p><p>The ex-storage-now-underground-club was huge - and packed to the brim with suspicious offbeats. There was a beer stand to one side, and it seemed there were at least three music spots - techno, rock and metal mixed in a terrible-sounding cacophony... and nobody seemed to mind. Groups mingled in front their respective stages, enjoying the sheer chaos of flesh, drinks and sounds.</p><p>"How do you like it?" he heard Ramsay shout through the crowd. And even with his loud voice, Theon had to squint and try to make out what the Bolton said. It wasn't hard to track his big figure though, along with three other men who accompanied him, each looking more rugged than the previous one. They reminded Theon of hyenas with their creepy smiles and leather jackets.</p><p>Here, in this dreadful den of sin, they looked like fish in the sea.<br/>Theon felt like a worm on a hook.</p><p>Thankfully, Ramsay looked like a shark.</p><p>"Love it!" Theon shouted back insecurely. The concrete walls were filled with crass grafitti, the floor sticky from spilled beer. A chick in booty-shorts bumped into him on his left side under attack of another girl. The girls were lost in their world, sweaty, making out, and didn't seem bothered at all by pushing Theon into one of Ramsay's henchmen.</p><p>He hit his head against broad shoulders and looked up to see a strong-jawed blonde man. Damon.<br/>He gulped and quickly moved away.</p><p>
  <i>"Wait, wait, wait." Robb was rubbing his temples while Theon was trying on a few different jackets, "You are going out? With Ramsay Bolton and his squad of creeps?"</i>
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  <i>"Yeah, so? You're too young to join us." Theon dismissed him and struck another pose in the mirror. Was this good enough? He frowned. Bolton said it was some rock concert they were going to, so maybe leather jacket was better than traper...</i>
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  <i>Maybe sleeveless, perphaps? To show off his biceps. He worked at them so hard, after all.</i>
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  <i>"I- what?! I don't want to join you!" Robb yelped in bewilderment. "Are you normal? Do you know who Ramsay Bolton is?"</i>
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  <i>"Come on, we are just friends." Theon calmly said. He hoped they were, actually. He wanted to be a part of that company so bad; after all, Ramsay was cool. Yeah. That's what he was. Cool.<br/>He wouldn't miss his chance to hang out with him just because Robb was having a paranoid fit. Stark didn't even want to try marihuana, let alone hang in places like Theon was invited to tonight.</i>
</p><p>He got surprised when Ramsay lead them even deeper in the basement, all the way to another door, guarded by a big, broad man with a gorilla-looking face. He leaned over, exchanged a few words with the gorilla, and the door opened. They passed through, to the next room.</p><p>The atmosphere here was much different than in the rest of the club. There was no music - but it was still much louder than behind. Theon frowned.</p><p>The crowd was gathered in the middle, around some fence, with everyone shouting and yelling. There were some weird sounds which Greyjoy couldn't exactly... distinguish what they were.</p><p>Ramsay grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, to the inner edge of the circle.</p><p>That's when Theon found out what everyone was shouting and cheering about.</p><p>Two huge, black dogs were snarling at each other in the ring, their teeth barren. The crowd served to only agitate them even more, working the dogs up and up, until the bitches finally leapt one on another.</p><p>In horror, Theon watched as the smaller bulldog viciously bit at the grey hound's foot. The flesh gave all the way in, and Theon saw white bone appear beneath the red, bloodied mess of bitches leg.</p><p>His stomach suddenly turned at the sight.</p><p>"I hope you like dog fights!" Ramsay shouted in his ear, and all Theon could do was choke and nod.<br/>"Yeah- ye- yeah! I always wanted to see- one in person." Greyjoy swallowed his nausea and tried to look away from the whining bitch.</p><p>"It's actually a very good source of income. A side-job of mine." Ramsay whistled. "I think my bitch is next. Helicent. You should see her, she is a savage little girl. She will bite that  bulldog's fucking face off." Bolton gave a low chuckle.</p><p>A man cruelly pulled the injured dog's leash back, and the whining bitch was dragged out the pit.</p><p>"You are looking pale. Here, take this, it will jolt you up." Ramsay shouted in his ear and took out a little bag with white powder. "You can snort it off your arm."</p><p>Theon choked on his words and - while he wanted to say no - ... this was such crowd, right? He will look stupid if he says no. Ramsay will think he is stupid. He won't get invited anywhere again.<br/>His brothers wouldn't think <b>twice</b> about it. They would already be white-nosed and getting with the crowd, betting on the beasts, and throwing fists. If he says no - he will be just like those fancy Starks, never taking a risk, never-.</p><p>While he was musing, Ramsay already drew himself a line on a knife, closed one nose hole, and snorted the powder with another.</p><p>"Yes or no, Greyjoy?" he shouted, holding the powder bag.<br/>Theon shivered and nodded.</p><p>When Ramsay made a little white line on the blade (<i>"It's your first time, right? Not much then."</i>) all Theon could see was his own reflection on the polished metal. A part of his soul stared back at him, and he almost heard the ghost of Robb's disapproval hovering above him.</p><p>
  <i>Really, Theon?</i>
</p><p>He closed his eyes and leaned forward, inhaling the white powder.<br/>"Oh shit, here she is! My girl." he heard Ramsay interrupt his afterthoughts. When he rose his head, Bolton was hugging him around shoulder and pointing at a big hound which was dragged to the stage. "I trained her myself. Told Ben not to feed her, though. Makes 'em more blood thirsty." he grinned.</p><p>Theon didn't want to hear any more.</p><p>The dogs started snarling at each other, and he felt Ramsay's hand travel down his back. It stopped at his hips.</p><p>"Don't look away." Bolton now whispered to him.<br/>Despite the loud crowd, Theon heard it without a problem.<br/>The voice had a dark edge to it.</p><p>He shivered in fear.</p><p>"Look at her, how she will rip her apart. The violence. See all these men around you?" he continued whispering in Greyjoy's ear, "They all wish they could be these dogs. Brutality excites them. They wish they could just go like this at each other."</p><p>In that second, dizzy, he thought he heard Ramsay say: <i>They wish they could just go like this at you.</i> <br/>Theon suddenly felt so cold. It was like something completely changed in the air, stopping the world and freezing it to slow motion. Ramsay's thumb started circling at his flesh, and he was now so uncomfortably close, pressing against him.</p><p>The dogs growled even louder, and suddenly, they were at each other's throats, barking and biting.</p><p>He watched as Ramsay's dog viciously jarred her white, strong teeth in the other one's neck. The blood was drawn and the dog tried to desperately pull away, but the bitch hound wouldn't give. She held her enemy tight in her fangs, refusing to let for even a second. It took three men to finally split the dogs.</p><p>"Yes." Ramsay whispered excitedly and suddenly moved away from Theon, "How about we go collect my cash and I buy you a drink?"<br/>***<br/>From then on, things continued in fragments.</p><p>He let Ramsay buy him a drink - then two drinks, three, then he stopped counting. All he wanted was to wash out the terrible scent of blood out of his throat and nose and to forget the terror he had just seen. Violence is one thing in the movies. But this cruelty, in real life, on the stage...<br/>He couldn't erase it from his mind.<br/>Worse, he couldn't erase Ramsay's heavy breathing from it, knowing how he squeezed at Theon's flesh, knowing how his pupils dilated at the sight of the agitated crowd and blood splattering over the hay floor.</p><p>He wanted to punish himself for being an idiot. Why did he come here in the first place? He should have listened to Robb. He should have stayed at home.</p><p>He remembered Ramsay talking and laughing with his weird offbeat group; Theon's face was too pale and his knees too weak to properly participate in converstations. Did he even speak? Or did he just drink?</p><p>Ramsay kept laughing at him <i>whenever he spoke</i>. Yet Theon didn't remember making any jokes.</p><p>He remembered when Ramsay started rubbing his neck, explaining to his boys 'Greyjoy here is a bit sensitive'.</p><p>He remembered an hour in the sweaty, worked up mass, dancing to the beat, while being somewhere far away from his body.<br/>Somehow, Ramsay pushed him to the dirty bathroom. He pressed Theon against the tiled wall, and Greyjoy's legs just gave up. He folded himself on the floor, breathing heavily, tired, his body heavy from drink. Through half-lidded eyes, he stared at Bolton.</p><p>For some reason, Ramsay's face deformed into a devilish one.<br/>Theon thought he will be devoured in the spot.</p><p>Ramsay started saying something to someone behind himself and then he unzipped his pants, before fishing out his cock.</p><p>Theon didn't fight.<br/>He let him use his slack mouth.<br/>Without a single word of protest.<br/>***<br/>He <i>barely</i> dragged himself home. Ramsay literally <i>dumped</i> him out the car. Really - he just pulled in front the Stark house and with a laugh, threw Theon out on his knees. It took the Ironborn a bit to get up on his wobbly legs and drag himself to the entrance, all while Ramsay laughed with his friends at it.</p><p>He was so tired. His throat hurt.<br/>The lights were shut off but he knew - he knew so well he stank, and he already felt Catelyn Stark's fury at him tomorrow. He will be getting a handful from both her and Ned, first thing in the morning, or whenever - whenever he sobers up enough to stand.</p><p>He started fumbling around his pockets to find the key, but instead, the door opened on their own.<br/>Robb stood there with a nervous look in his eyes. Did he really stay up to wait for him?</p><p>"Hey. How was it?" he asked in a worried voice while Theon tried to make out the blurred shape of his friend and not trip over the porch step.</p><p>"Great." he muttered. He was sure he looked like he survived bombing of the city. His hair was jutting out in all directions, his eyes were bloodshot and red, and his throat... raspy from smoke, shouting and...</p><p>whatever Ramsay did to him in the bathroom.<br/>"I stayed up to help you. If you needed something. So you don't wake the whole house up." Robb gave him an intense look.</p><p>How responsible.</p><p>"Yeah. I just... going to bed." Theon mumbled in a depressed voice and tried to drag himself to the stairs.<br/>He almost tripped over the couch.</p><p>His friend was quick to catch him.</p><p>With painful help from Robb, Theon managed to make an entire trip to the second floor without tumbling down the stairs and dying. He felt so blessed when he finally hit the bed, his body odor of beer and cigarettes staining the sheets and the walls of the room <i>probably forever</i>.</p><p>Robb took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket, deciding anything else would be too far. Theon is still... an adult.<br/>Some adult he is.</p><p>As he drifted off to sleep, he felt his phone buzz. His hand nearly collapsed from fatique as he fished it out and, through barely opened eyes, looked at it.<br/>There was a new text message.</p><p>
  <i>Hey, this was fun. Lets repeat it sometime. ;) -Ramsay</i>
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